What He Has Left
by Shmily
Summary: Alternate Universe: One summer night is really all it takes to change two lives forever. The night of Bill's wedding pulls Harry and Ginny apart for several years...will they be able to find love for another once they are reunited?
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: Most of the characters and places in this story come from the brilliant mind of J. K. Rowling, and for that I am truly grateful to her for creating such an imaginative playground. **

**A/N: Okay, I started this story before the seventh book was out. I haven't fully finished it yet but it is a work in progress and I'm hoping that readers can still find pleasure in this story. I originally started knowing that it would be an Alternate Universe fic no matter what J.K.R wrote in the seventh book. My hope is that you will still read and enjoy and please leave a review. So without further ado...**

_**What He Has Left**_

_"Time is free, but it's priceless._

_You can't own it, but you can use it._

_You can't keep it, but you can spend it._

_Once you've lost it you can never get it back." _

Prologue

Ginny glared determinedly at the tiles along the wall of the bathroom cursing each one for its existence. Her mind was a frenzy of shuffled thoughts, and a headache was rearing its unwanted head around the corner. Ginny gave an audible groan before submerging herself in the bath water. The rushing sound as her head was engulfed in the lukewarm liquid brought muffled silence to her ears and each movement she made sounded funny as she fought the urge to come up for breath. She wanted to stay like this for as long as time would allow her. Stay submerged in a feeling of unhindered nonchalance.

Feeling the pressure build in her chest from lack of air, Ginny pulled her face out of the water and gulped at the stuffy air in the bathroom. None of this was familiar…from the gossamer-pearl-white tile walls to the gold encrusted faucet. It was all so clean, so stuffy, so…_French._ Ginny glared at the dress robes she was wearing, they had of course become uncomfortable while she made this act of rebellion by locking herself in the third floor bathroom and bodily submerging herself, robes, bridesmaid dress, and all, in bathwater. Yet she sat here for what must have been and hour and no one had come to check on her. Ginny grunted in frustration while she adjusted her position in the tub. She could see her toes from beneath the peach dress, she wiggled them idly lifting her hand slowly out of the water and placing it underneath once more.

Her ministrations were broken at once by the loud banging on the other side of the door. Expecting the sound Ginny stopped her movements and stared at the door worrying her bottom lip between her teeth.

"Yes?" Ginny stared at the door wondering who it was, hoping for some attention yet praying it wasn't the worst sort…_mum._

"Ginevra Molly Weasley." Ginny cringed at the voice. Her worst fears had come to pass; Ginny knew that tone of voice, and what's more, her mother had used her full name in address.

"M—mum. I'm not coming out. I look horrid in this color and I'm not going to subject myself to such embarrassment for that French cow," Ginny stated in a confident manner. It wasn't completely true. She didn't know why she felt the need to escape this wedding, but she knew at once that she didn't want to be put on display. She played the card that she knew would soften her mother and at once she heard the effect as her mothers voice came nurturing and muffled by the door.

"Darling, it's not such a bad color. It makes your hair shine beautifully and well—"

"Mum! My freckles stand out like giants in a daisy field," Ginny whined. Though it seemed childish she really did feel unattractive in the gown. Her mother hadn't made a reply and so Ginny waited with baited breath. Maybe she'd won. Maybe her mother would concede and grant her pardon from participating in the ceremony. Then she wouldn't have to face the torture of standing in front of everyone and the awkwardness of seeing…_him._ However, her mother was not about to make her dream come true.

"I'm coming in," was Molly's reply before she muttered, "_Alohamora_." The lock on the door clicked back and Molly marched in searching the massive bathroom with worried eyes until they landed on Ginny. Her eyes narrowed and her cheeks tinged pink with anger before she uttered in a clipped tone, "Ginevra. What exactly, are you doing in the bathtub with your robes on?"

It was a logical question, but Ginny had no idea how to answer it. It had seemed like the proper thing to do at the time. Upset with the preparations for the wedding and Fleur's constant demands and snide remarks about her posture had pushed Ginny too far. She had escaped the practice ceremony and had started a bath, hoping to be relaxed and felt no need to shed the robes. She was not capable of voicing this however because her mother's stern stare had brought childish fear back into her heart and instead Ginny felt foolish and raised herself out of the tub.

This proved to be a hard feat considering the new weight of the robes and dress almost pulled her back under, but she climbed out of the tub and approached her mother looking thoroughly ashamed. Molly's eyes softened and she tut tutted quietly as she set to dry off her daughter. Once Ginny was seemingly righted Molly observed her daughter and smiled softly.

"Come now, why don't you change out of your robes and gown and meet me downstairs for a cuppa?" Molly patted her daughter on the back and Ginny nodded, consenting to the fact that maybe she truly needed to speak to someone. So she set past her mother, down the hall to the bedroom she was staying in at Château de Delacour and set to pull herself together to talk with her mother over a cup of tea.

The talk with her mother had greatly helped Ginny to put things into perspective. Her mother was much more observant than she gave her credit for. Ginny told her all about the tentative relationship that she and Harry had shared the past school term and how all the frenzied things that happened near the end had ended what she had thought was the best thing that had ever happened to her. Molly had listened and hadn't handed out judgment like Ginny half expected her to. Instead, Molly smiled at her daughter and marveled about how grown up she had become. This had put the pair in an interesting place and Ginny found that she too had started to view her mother in a much different light.

The days progressed steadily with no word from Ron who, against much resistance on Molly's part, had gone to the Dursley's with Hermione and Harry for the beginning of the summer. Molly and Ginny had continued their afternoon conversations with tea and when the afternoon before the wedding arrived Molly expressed her concerns to her daughter.

"What if he doesn't make it?" Molly asked; her concern etched in every line on her face. Ginny took time to notice more and more about her mother as the days wore on. Her mum was a beautiful person, she decided. Her selflessness was enough to make Ginny ashamed of her own selfish desires. Molly Weasley never thought of herself. Ginny let a soft smile linger on her lips as she placed a calming hand over her mother's clenched fist.

"He'll come Mum," Ginny said with the certainty that she felt, "He knows tomorrow is an important day for Bill and the family. Heaven only knows he can keep himself away from Fleur for so long," Ginny added causing her mother to chuckle. Ginny found that she was relieved that she could ease her mum's fears. Molly still took to carrying her clock wherever she went, and all the Weasleys were still pointed on mortal peril. It made Ginny's heart ache for her mother.

She was about to say more but was cut short by a rush of noise in the parlor. Ginny and Molly eyed each other as they tried to decipher the rushed words. By the sound of it Fleur and Mrs. Delaclour were greeting someone in rapid French. Ginny tried in vain to understand what was going on, but eavesdropping was pointless considering she didn't understand a word of the language. It didn't seem to matter however and Fleur trumped her way into the kitchen followed by Mrs. Delaclour and a woman Ginny recognized as Mrs. Delaclour's twin, and then after them there was a boy—or young man rather.

"Oooo," Fleur cooed once she saw the occupants of the kitchen, "Sank goodness you are 'ere. I was 'oping to be able to introduce Ginny to my cousin, Nicholas," Fleur motioned to the young man.

Nicholas was tall, not as tall as Ron, and he was lean, not lanky. He held an air of sophistication that caused Ginny to straighten her skirt and wonder why she hadn't taken more care with her appearance before leaving her room this morning. His features were fair and his smile was polite, though strained as though he wished to be somewhere else. Ginny was very much aware of his presence and she tried her best not to let it show.

He finally moved to settle his eyes upon Ginny and it might have been her imagination but it seemed as though his smile got brighter. He bowed slightly and extended his hand to Ginny. She placed her own hand in his and found that his hand was the softest hand she'd ever felt. She was suddenly ashamed of her hand, cracked and manly as it stood in contrast to his which were milky and smooth. He bowed his head and kissed her hand before releasing it again.

"Eet is very nice to meet you Ginny," he spoke. It was deeper than she expected and she found that he was staring at her and she realized the she hadn't given a reply.

"Oh…er…the pleasure is all mine, Nicholas. I'm sorry, but I don't remember Phle—Fleur ever speaking of you before." Ginny cursed herself. What was wrong with her? She was going about this all wrong. It was as though the sane part of her brain had taken a holiday.

"Zat iz razzer funny you see because she 'as spoken of nussing else, but you to me." Nicholas smiled and it took Ginny a while to comprehend all of what he was saying because his accent was a bit stronger than Fleur's.

Instead of responding, Ginny stood stupidly, blinking and saying nothing. It was at this moment that all hell broke loose with raised voices from the parlor. It took Ginny a moment to register that the voices were growing louder and heading in their general direction. Mrs. Delaclour had taken her sister aside and they seemed to be engrossed in a discussion with Ginny's mother about the wedding. Fleur was hovering between Ginny and Nicholas with a delighted expression and Ron—Ron was standing livid in the kitchen glaring at a red faced Hermione.

"What the bloody hell was I supposed to do Hermione? Those people were horrid to us, and they have been horrid to Harry his entire life! I needed to enforce_some_ justice."

"No Ron. Leaving Dudley in that state was not the right thing to do! You just proved right everything that they thought about magical people all along. I was trying to talk them around and you ruined everything," Hermione poked a stern finger into Ron's chest with every other word. Her gaze was menacing and if it weren't for the fact that they were biting each other's heads off Ginny thought that they might kiss.

All came to a final end when Harry dragged himself inside the kitchen, rumpled and tired eyed he became alert as he examined the faces of the people with mild unease. His withering glance took in every unfamiliar face and soon his emerald gaze locked on Ginny and she felt her breath flee her chest. They stood and held the longest gaze that Ginny could ever recall having. It was over however when Fleur let out an excited cry.

"Arry! Sank goodness you came. We were so worried zat you would not make eet," Ron gave a look of indignation that Fleur was not worried _he_ wouldn't make it and Hermione looked more furious than ever. Ginny gave a sideways glance to Nicholas who showed no outward surprise to the situation.

"I was just introducing Ginny to my cousin Nicholas," Fleur simpered. Harry drew up sharp and took a long look at Nicholas and the proximity between him and Ginny before extending his hand, a stiff introduction at best. Fleur moved fluidly around the room, not seeming to notice the awkward feelings she was leaving in her wake.

"Zis, zis is my muzzer." Fleur dragged Harry over to Mrs. Delaclour and began the long line of introductions. Ginny on the other hand made her way over to Hermione and tapped her bushy haired friend on the shoulder.

"Rough exit?" she asked quietly so as not to draw too much attention. Hermione turned around and breathed a sigh of relief before Ginny's vision was blurred by bushy hair as she was hugged by the other girl. Hermione pulled back after a while and shot Ginny a look that had Ginny pulling her out of the kitchen and up the marble staircase. Hermione gasped at the house.

"I didn't get a proper look when we'd first arrived. I was busy yelling at your brother," Hermione breathed as she ran her fingers along the crystal railing; muttering the whole time about the amount of cleaning charms that must be applied to them daily.

"Actually they just first apply a protective charm over them so they don't get chipped and so there aren't smudges of fingerprints on them. It works loads better and is more efficient than having to apply daily cleaning charms," Ginny answered. Hermione nodded as she continued to admire the work of the Château de Delaclour and Ginny trumped up the last flight of stairs until they had reached the third floor.

Ginny paused slightly as she made to move down the hall, realizing that she had previously decided Hermione's sleeping arrangements for her. Her unease must have shown on her face for Hermione gave her a quizzical look before asking her, "Ginny, what?"

"It's just that, I'm sorry Hermione. You weren't here and Mrs. Delaclour said that they would have plenty of rooms for everyone to have their own when you arrived, but I'm so used to staying with you whenever you come over that I insisted that you were permitted to stay with me. I never stopped to think that you might want a room to yourself," Ginny explained in rushed breath. She knew her friend wouldn't mind, but she still felt silly for not considering her opinion first.

"Oh don't worry about it Ginny, of course I'd rather stay with you." Hermione soothed. It was then that Ginny forgot how angry she had been with her friend for leaving her here while she helped Harry. She truly loved Hermione like the sister she never had. With that she grabbed Hermione's arm and led her to the room.

She had made it; it was about half an hour until the end of the wedding festivities. She had been able to slip off her robes after the wedding and was clad in her peach dress and matching strappy shoes. She had to admit, she loved the height advantage the shoes lent her, and she could almost look Nicholas in the eyes this way. Over the past couple of hours she had come to appreciate Nicholas and his sense of humor, not to mention the fact that his veela charm had him surrounded by practically every female in the room, even Hermione looked slightly flushed when he commented on her hairdo.

Nicholas had been a faithful companion however, and had stuck by Ginny's side ever since he had been her escort down the aisle. Ginny had giggled at the time, it was an interesting sight; all of her brothers lined up on Bill's side and then Nicholas at the end standing next to Ron. She thought their interactions would be limited to the conversations before the wedding, but Nicholas had been placed next to her at dinner and had seemed genuinely interested in her conversational prattle. He only had eyes for her, and so did another wizard it would seem.

His constant gaze followed her wherever she went and she had flushed several times when she looked at him and found that he was staring at her. His gaze however, did not waver. She had floated around the entire night, being pleasant and friendly, meeting new people and enjoying the beautiful smells that the Delaclour estate had to offer. She was startled when she felt Nicholas place his hand in the middle of her back as she turned to look at him.

"Would you like to dance?" He extended his other hand for Ginny and she accepted it kindly, blushing under his gaze. Nicholas led her to the dance floor as the band struck up a waltz. Nicholas moved fluidly, guiding Ginny like an expert and leaving her feeling like one of the princesses out of her dad's Muggle books that he used to read to her. Little did she know that her excitement in this moment was causing a serious dilemma for someone else.

_It's nothing. _He kept telling himself. She had smiled at him like _that_ plenty of times, but that was what was so infuriating about the entire situation. That smile was _his _smile. It seemed as though she was handing out smiles to anything that moved, but especially to this prat…what was his name?...Nicholas? Generally, Harry ignored most people when they gossiped about Fleur and her tendency to insert herself into affairs that weren't her own. Now, however, he felt personally betrayed that she had invited her extremely handsome cousin along to sweep his girlfriend—_ex-_girlfriend—away.

Harry had watched her the entire day, and it proved to be the most masochistic day of his life. Watching her, experiencing her beauty and not being able to pull her into his arms and experience her passion. _It's for the best, _he kept telling himself, but the monster inside his chest was having a right fit over the way the Frenchman was handling what had once been his. Not that he viewed Ginny as property, she was nobody's property. That was what he liked about her.

"Wotcher Harry," Tonks plopped down and beamed at him. Her hair was brown, but not the mousy brown that it had been the previous year, this brown had a shine to it and it looked lovely piled on top of her head.

"You look wonderful Tonks."

"Thanks Harry, but I'm no Ginny," Tonks sighed and observed the same girl that Harry had been observing the entire night. Harry swallowed the snitch sized lump that had lodged itself in his throat and tore his eyes away from Tonks to stare at his shoes.

"W-What do you mean?"

"What do I mean? Look at her! She has grown up so wonderfully. I'd kill for her curves, I mean, I could shift myself to something similar, but natural curves like that are hard to come by, and I could never achieve that shade of red. The way her hair falls perfectly across her shoulders," Tonks heaved a heavy sigh, "she reminds me of the kind of girls that always had the boys after them at school."

Harry nodded, completely understanding what Tonks was talking about. Ginny was extremely popular at school. Harry had heard her name in several conversations among the male population. She was beautiful, really, truly, stunning.

"I heard about you two," Tonks said, and Harry wondered how the news of his and Ginny's tragedy had reached so many ears.

"Would you like to talk about it?" Tonks offered.

"There's nothing to talk about." It was a direct answer and he hoped he hadn't hurt her feelings by his bluntness he was merely hoping Tonks would simply leave the subject bloody well alone. Something on the dance floor in that moment had caught Harry's eye. Harry could feel the heat slowly rise in his face as the Frenchman's hand slowly traveled lower and lower on Ginny's back.

"That's what I thought as well, about Remus you know." Harry nodded, not really paying any attention to her words.

"Yes, yes," he muttered. Tonks cast him a sideways glance and seemed slightly irritated but smiled knowingly just the same.

"It's always best to start small. Why don't you ask for a dance?" she advized, bodily lifting him out of his chair and pushing him forward. Harry stood frozen. He couldn't go over there. What would he say? He was never great with words, that was why he had Hermione, however she and Ron had bickered themselves into a corner and now Harry didn't know where they were. Harry turned to protest at Tonks, but found that she had moved to stand with Remus who had his arm around her. She whispered something in his ear and he flushed crimson before kissing her soundly.

Harry found that he ached for that feeling, any feeling. It seemed that he hadn't felt_anything_ in weeks. He wanted to feel, he wanted to touch, he wanted to kiss, he wanted to explode with the joy that he felt when he was with Ginny. It was with this newfound determination that Harry made his way across the dance floor.

* * *

"He was bloody helping me with the wine I'd spilled down the front of my dress you prat!" Ginny screeched at Harry. 

"Well, it didn't look like that from where I was standing," Harry shouted in return.

"What? You thought I was simply allowing him to _touch_ my _breasts_?" Ginny's voice was not loud; it was low and gravelly—dangerous. Harry had heard her take this tone when she'd addressed Ron on occasion and he slightly feared for his life.

"Of course I didn't think you were _allowing_ him to touch your," Harry made hand motions that had him blushing.

"Breasts, Harry! They're called breasts," Ginny fumed.

"I just—I…I don't know what I was thinking. It just made me angry that he got to touch you."

"Why?"

"Because you're mine!" Too late Harry realized his mistake and Ginny turned a shade of red he'd never even seen Ron achieve before. It was at this moment that she moved toward the door, Harry thought stupidly that she was going to leave, hex him and leave. She however seemed to have other plans as she shut the door locked it, and Harry could swear he heard her mutter a Silencing Charm followed by an Imperturbable Charm.

_Oh shite!_ He thought. _I'm a gonner._

"I am not property," she stated, moving toward him as he scrambled backward hoping to get out of her reach, but was soon stopped by a bed. He was stupid to have followed her up here; he just felt he needed to explain after he'd hexed Nicholas. Ginny had glared at him and had stormed off to her room and he had followed. Like a complete _wanker_ he had followed her.

"_You_ broke it off remember? It was the end of the year? You were being noble and stupid? Is that ringing any bells Mr. Potter? And I thought if I gave you time you would get over it, but here we stand, _still_ not a couple and _you_ think _you_ can control me."

Harry felt his anger steadily bubbling inside him. How dare she put all of this on him?

"You're right; I should let you run around shoving your chest in men's faces, allowing them to fondle you!" It was completely off topic, but he was angry. It didn't even make sense, but word ceased to have real meaning in his mind. He was running on empty and all he could really think it that she looked really sexy when her hair fell in her face like it was doing in that moment. The fiery tendrils were slowly loosening themselves out of the intricate pattern they had been placed in upon her head.

"_What_?!"

"Yes Ginny. I got upset, but you are a tease. You haven't talked to me the entire time that I've been here—"

"You haven't talked to me—"

"And I think that a part of you wanted that _wanker_ to touch you. You wanted to feel his hands on you, caressing you," Harry now had Ginny pinned to the bed, his hands placed on either side of her and his mouth whispering in her ear. Harsh words that he'd never known he was capable of. Ginny's face was flush and her eyes were dark, though it could have been due to the fact that the light in the room itself was dimming.

"Maybe you're right. I did want to be touched Harry. I liked the feel of his hands on me. I enjoyed when we were dancing and when he started moving his hand lower and lower and lower," Ginny whispered staring strait into his eyes, "And you know what else? I pictured it was you."

Harry didn't wait to hear anymore. He crushed his mouth against hers and moaned as she brought her hands to play in his hair. He was vaguely aware of the fact that they were now both on the bed and that he was pressing her into the mattress, searching her mouth with his tongue and mapping her body with his fingers.

Ginny made a tiny noise in the back of her throat that drove him crazy and made him painfully aware of his growing excitement. He broke the contact quickly, trying to grasp the logic in his haze encompassed mind. He looked down at the gorgeous creature beneath him and felt his breath hitch in his chest. Her lips were red and swollen and her chest was heaving as she tried to control her erratic breathing. Her vibrant hair was fanned out along the bed, _had he done that?_ Hair the color of autumn and fire and and the Gryffindor common room and everything he loved in the world spread out and one thought entered Harry's mind, so primal and fierce that it frightened him, _mine!_ He leaned down his head and licked and nipped at her collar bone which caused her body to shiver beneath his.

There was a sensible part of his brain that was screaming at him to stop and think about the consequences, but as he pulled away a sob tore from her throat and she begged him to, "Please, don't stop." It was then that he realized that he could never deny this beautiful creature anything she asked.

* * *

Ginny woke to a flurry of movement, light and sound. She sat straight in bed, trying to sort out the exact events of the previous night and blushed when she remembered her incredible night with Harry. _Harry!_ Where was he? Ginny sought out her wand and used a handy spell she'd learned in a book entitled, _Useful Spells For the Hurried Witch, _which allowed her to magic her clothes on. She needn't be worried about receiving a letter about underage magic anymore. It wouldn't be detected in a house full of properly aged wizards and witches, and she highly doubted her beloved Hogwarts would be opening again. It was a good thing she was able to set things to rights for a figure burst into her room. 

"Where did they go?" Mrs. Weasley pleaded with her daughter, but Ginny looked at her mother wondering who she could possibly be talking about.

"Where did who go?" Ginny asked, not liking the feeling pooling in her stomach. There was nothing more terrifying than a nervous Molly. Ginny's mother rushed over to the bed that was supposed to be occupying Hermione and it was in this moment that Ginny understood what was going on.

"They're gone?" Ginny knew it was a silly question, even as it left her mouth, but she felt the need to ask it anyway. She sent up a silent prayer that she would be wrong. Harry wouldn't just leave her after that. Then it hit her like a skrewt sting, there on her pillow, a parchment.

Ginny was faintly aware that her mother was still asking her hurried and unfinished questions, trying to grasp the scope of all that could have possibly happened. One thing was certain, they had left of their own accord and Ginny found that this caused her heart to ache before the anger hit, anger and disappointment. She knew better than to feel like a common slag, however she was having trouble wrapping her mind around the fact that Harry had left her after they had expressed themselves in ways, she at least, had never expressed herself to a boy before. She didn't yet regret what had taken place, she knew she loved Harry, and she had wanted to show him how much.

Ginny pulled her knees up to her chest and leaned forward supporting her chin on top. She recalled what had happened shortly after she and Harry had…_what? Made love? That seemed to syrupy like something out of Mum's favorite Celestina Warbeck songs. Had sex? That didn't encompass what had transpired here tonight, there was so much more involved than any three letter word could ever describe_. And yet, Ginny remembers.

_Ginny lay panting next to the strong figure beside her. She was still a little sore, it had been pretty painful, but there was something else, something after all the pain, something wonderful and Ginny had thought that her heart had never felt so full. She could feel Harry's body shifting beside her, she felt him pull her close as he planted a ghost of a kiss on her forehead. _

_Slowly she raised her head and gazed into his eyes, tracing his face with her fingers, he stopped her hand and kissed her slowly at first and then deeper. They explored each others mouths and Ginny felt him shudder when she placed her hand on his chest. It was enough to make her burst into flames. She was here, with Harry, and they had just taken a huge leap…and she smiles because they aren't dead, and Death Eaters aren't pounding at their door, and they just might live to see another day._

_She truly loves this boy and staring into his eyes again, she wonders how to tell him. _

"_I love you," Ginny breathes with as much determination she can muster. She had never told him that before, but she was certain. With every stitch of magic in her being she was sure. She loved Harry and she wanted to be his and she wanted him to be hers. _

_She feels him stiffen as the words leave her mouth, and his eyes change slightly, they appear dimmer; closed. It is in this instant that Ginny knows what heartbreak is, for it feels as if a piece of her soul is being ripped out and placed back only to be ripped out again, about a million times over. She's also fairly certain that she can hear her heart begin to crack in the silence, but he kisses her lightly on the cheek and smiles at her before wrapping his arms around her middle, allowing her to burrow into his body._

"_Sleep now," he says. And sleep she does._

Ginny chewed at her bottom lip incessantly. She glanced warily at the parchment on her pillow and vaguely recognized the fact that she was alone again. She could still hear sounds throughout the enormous house, but didn't care about them. She didn't want to look at the parchment yet. She didn't want to think about what this meant for her, all she wanted to do was sleep. And sleep she did.

* * *

**A/N: Okay so, there's the prologue. Please let me know what you think. I already have the next three chapters completed but I'd like to hear everyone's opinions to see how this story is being received. Please no flaming such as, "This story sucks," or "You're retarded," or something of that nature. If you have constructive criticism it is welcome I simply ask that you submit it in a mature manner. Please, and thank you. Meg **


	2. Return to the Unfamiliar

What He Has Left

Chapter 1: Return to the Unfamiliar

It was a Wednesday morning that found Ginevra Molly Weasley sitting on a cherry cushion chair in the foyer of Château de Vau. She had been waiting all morning for the arrival of her mother and as she sat in the chair she reflected on the last time she'd seen the Weasley matriarch.

_Rain was pouring on the ramshackle Burrow and Ginny sat in a rocking chair wrapped in her favorite blanket staring at the fire. She could hear raised voices coming from the kitchen, Bill was furious and Fleur was speaking French. Even Professor McGonagall seemed extremely on edge ever since she'd been here, and Ginny sat watching the fire lick the grate. Every so often she would catch a word or end of a phrase._

"…_the only thing to do." McGonagall._

"_But…she'll be lonely!" that was Bill, she could feel the anger in his voice._

"_Nicholas will keep her company," Fleur cooed._

"…_not fair," Mrs. Weasley._

"…_necessary," Mr. Weasley._

_Ginny sat contemptuously, thinking about how ironic it was that everyone would be bickering about her fate without even asking her what she wanted to do. She knew she had brought this upon herself. She knew Harry was stupid for thinking she wouldn't be targeted by Voldemort, and now she'd gone and made herself even more susceptible to an attack. She didn't want that for her family. _

_They would all go into hiding; it was the only option. She would be going far away from the rest of them, and just in case they were to be tortured for her whereabouts, the place in which she would be staying would be put under the Fidelus Charm. Who the secret keeper was going to be? Well…she had no idea. _

_Mrs. Weasley hurried into the room and kneeled before her only daughter. Ginny tried to put on a brave face even though she knew this might be the last time she would see her mother for a while._

"_You can't stay here anymore, it isn't safe. None of us can stay," Mrs. Weasley explained. Ginny lost the heart to tell her that she already knew what needed to be done._

"_Will I be able to see you regularly?" Ginny asked brokenly. She was answered with a sad smile from her mother and a simple shake of the head. No, they would not be able to visit with each other. Ginny didn't think she could do this without her mother._

"_Will I be able to reach you at all?" Ginny sobbed feeling her frustrations pour through her anger. She felt her mother gather her up into her arms and pat her back reassuringly. It was unfair, Ginny thought, that she was forced to grow up before she was ready. Still, there was that all too familiar voice in the back of her head that told her everything she needed to know, _you brought this upon yourself.

"_We'll be able to exchange letters, not by owl. It will have to be done the Muggle way so Voldemort won't suspect it. You will be okay," Mrs. Weasley told her and Ginny knew that it was true, "I will always be thinking of you. I will always be worrying about you. I will always be there for you, but most importantly, and you must never forget this Ginny! I will always love you."_

The memory faded from Ginny's mind as she heard footsteps on the main staircase. Ginny looked up and smiled gently as her eyes settled on the face of Nicholas Vou. He smiled kindly in return and extended his arms to which she quickly embraced. They stayed together like that for quite some time before Nicholas whispered into her ear, "_Let's take a walk."_ It was French, but in the three and a half years of living there she had learned.

"_Alright."_

She knew this day would have to come, eventually; they had both known. But now that the day had arrived, Ginny wasn't sure if she could bring herself to leave a place and a person who had become a surrogate home of sorts. There was a feeling of three snitches fluttering in her stomach and it wasn't exciting.

Ginny allowed herself to be led out onto the grounds; they walked by the gardenias and the trellis of jasmine that hung throughout the gazebo. The air was slightly chill for August and Ginny pulled herself closer to the body of the man beside her. She felt his side rumble as he laughed at her.

"_And what is so funny?"_

"_You are."_

"_I am cold." _Ginny stated simply.

"_We can fix that,"_ Nicholas said affectionately and waggled his eyebrows causing Ginny to blush at the suggestion. Nicholas had always been overly flirtatious, but she had made sure that he knew they were just friends. He had become the best friend Ginny had ever known. Living in isolation with someone for three and a half years could do that to a person. She would miss his flirtation.

"_Not while I still have my say you dirty Frenchman! Where is Emmie,"_ Ginny opted for a change of subject.

"_Still sleeping, like an angel sent to earth. She is truly beautiful," _Nicholas smiled. Ginny reflected on his reaction for a little while. Nicholas had loved Emmie since the day he had met her and had treated her like a princess. Ginny had often admonished him for it; she did not want the girl to become a spoiled brat like some of the people she'd remembered from school. An image of a pug faced Pansy Parkinson swarmed her vision and she frowned in distaste.

"_Jealous?"_ Nicholas inquired casting Ginny a sideways glance. Ginny laughed at him.

"_Jealous of a child? No. I love her too much. She really is beautiful."_

"_She takes after her mother," _Nicholas said studying Ginny. She could feel his calculating gaze and frowned once more at his comment. What was he trying to do? Drag up bad memories? She had learned her lesson in this château and much more. Now, she just wanted news from home. She knew the war must be over, even in Bordeaux, France they knew, but no one had sent word for a year after. Ginny had started to worry that maybe there was no one left. She remembered the blinding panic that maybe they had all died. Ginny shivered pushing the thought from her mind.

Just then there was a popping noise and the house elf Pimpim bowed deeply before announcing the arrival of a red haired guest. Ginny smiled hugely and took off running back to the entrance of the château.

Molly Weasley took in her extravagant surroundings and muttered, "Oh dear," as she observed the house that her daughter had inhabited for three and a half years. Molly sighed as she thought about her daughter. There was an uneasiness in her stomach at the thought of seeing her daughter again, the last time she had seen that bright head of long hair had been when her daughter was sixteen. _Sixteen._ She was so young and yet so…adult. She didn't gripe and moan about her situation, she had stepped up to the plate and taken responsibility for her actions. Molly stood wringing her hands in a nervous fashion. It had been so long.

Then she saw her, running down the hall, hair flying out behind her and face bright and smiling. Molly met her halfway and the two women stood hugging each other for a long time, Molly felt her daughter shaking and realized with surprise that she was crying.

"Ginny, dear. You look so lovely!" Molly examined her daughter. She had gained slight height but was still short. She had lost a lot of weight which caused Molly to frown; she would have to remedy that thinness. Her daughter's hair was longer and more vivid; her face was bright and beautiful. Molly smiled and kissed her daughter's cheek.

"Oh Mum! It's so great to see you," Ginny beamed encompassing Molly in a hug again.

"Come now darling, we have much to discuss," Molly motioned for her daughter to move them to a sitting room.

Ginny was so happy to see her mother, but could tell instantly that there was something that her mother was trying to hide. Her mother gave her the basic run down of things after she'd left. The rest of the family had gone into hiding and had stayed there under McGonagall's orders. Her father had had a difficult time adjusting to not being helpful and had taken to reading Muggle magazines that were found in the house.

After a year of no word, Ron and Hermione showed up at the house with an unconscious Harry. This was the part of the story that Ginny really listened to. Molly had set about fixing Harry up, but some of his injuries were things that she'd never come by before. Molly had tried to get the extent of the events out of her son, but all he would say was that Voldemort was gone. It had been three months later when Harry finally awoke.

"That marked the start of your second year here," her mother told her taking a sip from the tea that Pimpim had brought up earlier. Their conversation was interrupted however by rushing footstep as a bright ball of red hair ran into the room and jumped upon Ginny's lap.

"Ooft. Emmie!" Ginny gasped. The little girl looked up at Ginny; her brown eyes alight with excitement.

"Mummy! Nicholas and me are playing."

"Nicholas and I," Ginny corrected her daughter.

"Yes," Emmie said nodding her red head emphatically. She placed her hand on Ginny's mouth and said, "Shh, don't tell him where I am Mummy." She then pushed herself off of Ginny's lap and hid behind the sofa. Molly was watching the display with tears in her eyes and Ginny patted her arm gently. Nicholas soon followed the young girl making a spectacle of looking in drawers and under rugs, places that Emmie couldn't possibly be hiding. Ginny heard a soft giggle behind the couch and muffled her own laughter. Nicholas stomped over and stopped by Ginny looking down at her and winking.

"_Is there a pixie around here miss?"_ he asked addressing Ginny in French. But it was a small voice behind the couch which answered.

"_I am not a pixie Nicholas!"_ Emmie crawled from under the couch to glare at Nicholas, who had a look of deep surprise on his face.

"Look what I have found. A pixee!" Nicholas spoke switching to English.

"She can speak French?" Molly asked Ginny looking wide-eyed at the precocious child who was tickling a laughing Nicholas on the ground. Ginny nodded watching the pair fondly.

"Nicholas and I speak French frequently and so she picked up on it as well as English, it is amazing what a child's mind can do," Ginny beamed, proud at her daughter's precociousness. Nicholas had gained control and was now making Emmie giggle incessantly as he tickled her. When he finally relented, Emmie ran to Ginny. Ginny scooped her child into her arms and kissed her forehead lightly while Nicholas took his place beside Ginny on the sofa.

"_Hello, Molly," _Nicholas said switching on his charm. Ginny watched as her mother blushed deeply and giggled like a school girl.

"_Stop teasing,"_ Ginny admonished. Nicholas pouted at her before he turned down the veela charm. Ginny turned her daughter to face Molly.

"Emmie, this is _my_ Mummy. She is your grandmum," Ginny said. Emmie looked up at her mother and then at Molly before she extended her small hand, which Molly took gratefully.

"My name is Emmie Lilica Weasley."

"My name is Molly, but you can call me grandmum. We've met before, though you won't remember that because you were just newly born. But I want you to know that I've loved you since the moment you breathed," Molly said smiling at the young child before her. Emmie climbed out of Ginny's lap and into the lap of her grandmother.

"I love you too grandmum," Emmie said wrapping her small arms around her grandmother's neck. Molly cried into the little girl's shoulder. When Ginny caught her mother's attention she smiled.

"Let's go home." Molly said.

"_Come with us,"_ Ginny pleaded to the man who had helped her through the most confusing time of her life.

"_And do what with the château?" _he chuckled. Ginny brushed her hair from her face and looked into sad blue eyes. What would she do without him?

"_We could get a flat in London, we could live together, you, me and Emmie. Then we could visit here during the summers. Please Nicholas,"_ Ginny pleaded when he started to laugh at her again.

"_I cannot lose you, you are my best friend,"_ Ginny whispered. She felt his hand on her cheek as he lifted her face to look at him. He spoke clearly and slowly so she could understand.

"_There is one man in this world for you Ginevra, and I am not him. I have had your devotion for about four years now, and I will cherish that for as long as I live. But you must go now, with Emmie, and start your life. I will always love you." _Nicholas kissed the top of her forehead and smiled sadly. Ginny felt her heart breaking; she would no longer see him everyday. She wouldn't wake up to the sound of French composers and the smell of coffee. He would be in France and she would be in England.

"You will visit?" she asked hopefully. She knew he couldn't at least deny her this. He smiled ruefully and nodded the affirmative.

"Eef zat is what you want," he spoke softly. Ginny felt an impatient tug on her hand and looked down to see Emmie.

"Mummy, grandmum is ready to leave."

"Alright darling, let's go." Ginny started to lead her daughter away, but stopped when she saw her daughter staring at Nicholas expectantly.

"_Come Nicholas," _Emmie commanded expecting him to obey as he had done her entire life. The look that crossed his face made Ginny want to cry out. He loved Emmie so much, and had treated her as if she were his own daughter. Ginny reflected that in a sense she was his daughter and he her father in many ways. Ginny moved to pull Emmie along, but Nicholas held up a hand. He knelt before Emmie and grabbed her small hands in his large ones.

"_My angel, you have wings to take you places I am not able to go. My home is France and yours is England and you must go to find your place."_ Emmie stared at Nicholas clearly struggling to understand what was happening.

"_My home is you Nicholas," _Emmie stated and a tear escaped one of Nicholas's eyes. Emmie wiped it away and patted his back, _"Why do you cry?"_

"_My angel is leaving me to heal more hearts sicker than my own," _Nicholas said gruffly. Ginny thought to look away, but she wanted this memory imprinted with her forever.

"_And will you not go with her?"_ Emmie asked, finally understanding what was happening. Her lower lip quivered and her tears started to flow.

"_I have not her beautiful wings."_

"_I will make you some Nicholas. Or, I'll be a pixie like you call me and give you pixie dust. Come Nicholas. Come," _Emmie cried.

"_I cannot," _he kissed Emmie on her cheek and held her close before he placed her in Ginny's arms while the young girl kicked and screamed and clawed for Nicholas, the only father she had known.

"Nicholas! Nicholas," she cried.

Molly ran up to them muttering, "Oh dear," before she pulled out the portkey and tapped it; Ginny felt the tugging sensation behind her navel before France disappeared from her vision and it wasn't a scene she was likely to forget.

Ginny, Emmie, and Molly were plopped into the middle of a living room that Ginny did not recognize.

"Where are we?" Ginny asked.

"Home dear," Molly said looking at her daughter.

"But…the Burrow," Ginny stated lamely taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. Molly took pity on her daughter and led Ginny to the window showing her the familiar surroundings.

"The Burrow was burnt down dear. We rebuilt everything, same location, different foundation." Molly informed smartly. Ginny nodded solemnly seeing the evidence of how long she'd been away. This place felt foreign, and with a sinking feeling she wondered if she'd ever be able to call this place home once more.

Emmie clung to her mother's leg as her big eyes took in the unfamiliar surroundings. Molly watched the two standing there, mother and daughter both looking extremely lost and out of place and it made her heart ache. She hoped that in time they would come to love their surroundings.

"It is going to take major adjustment dear," Molly said bustling to the kitchen and yelling out the backdoor for someone. Ginny prepared herself for the onslaught of red headed freckled face siblings and their wives and their offspring, but instead it was just her father. He took Ginny into his arms and wrapped her in the most familiar warmness she'd felt all day.

"Dad," Ginny breathed. He stepped back and beamed at her. Ginny moved and presented Emmie to her father.

"Look at this young one, isn't she the spitting image of her mother," Arthur marveled.

"This is your grandpa Emmie." Ginny said looking down at her daughter who was staring blankly ahead. Ginny shook Emmie's hand hoping she would say something.

"_Emmie Lilica, don't be rude. Say hello to your grandpa!" _ Ginny admonished her daughter in French. Her father cast an impressed glance her way, but it was nothing compared to the amazement he showed when Emmie said, _"Bonjour grandpa, my name is Emmie Lilica Weasley."_

"Oh Ginny, she's so smart. Does she speak English?" he asked, looking worried that he might not be able to communicate with his granddaughter.

"She speaks wonderful English, I'm not certain what's wrong. _Emmie? Have you lost your English tongue? Why do you speak French?"_

"_I want to talk to Nicholas," _Emmie stated looking at her mother.

"_Emmie, Nicholas is not here. You cannot speak with him," _Ginny said to her daughter apologetically. Her daughter however either did not seem to understand or was being completely stubborn.

"_I want to see Nicholas. I won't speak English."_

Ginny didn't have the heart or the stamina to be properly angry. This day had been physically and emotionally draining on her, she had so many memories that she was trying to keep at bay and so many phantoms to revisit. She simply sighed heavily and shrugged at her father as she took her daughter in hand and sat on a high backed sofa near the fireplace; above which stood the old family clock.

"Where is everyone else?" Ginny asked, slightly disappointed that more people weren't here to greet her, and yet oddly relieved that she wouldn't have to face them all at the same time.

"We didn't want to overwhelm you on your first minute back, but your mother has planned an excellent feast. Everyone will be over later," he father finished. Ginny didn't like the sound of _everyone_.

"Who is everyone?" Ginny asked. Her father looked slightly guilty as he answered. Ginny was amazed once again about how much Ron's expressions mirrored those of their father. _Ron, _the idea of closest brother brought her to a painful pause.

"Oh well, all of your brothers, even Percy I think your mother might have mentioned in one of her letters that that bridge was mended. He's still broken hearted after the death of Penelope though. Bill and Fleur, Charlie and whichever date he's managed to pick up this week. The twins, Katie and Angelina, Ron, Hermione, and Harry will be coming late and—"

"Harry," Ginny said. It wasn't a question; in fact she was surprised at how much more accusing it sounded. She couldn't deny that she felt slightly betrayed by her parents. Didn't they know how difficult this was for her without throwing Harry into the mix?

"Yes." Arthur said. Ginny shook her head. She couldn't handle this right now not with…Emmie. The young girl had fallen asleep in her mother's lap. Ginny decided to drop the inquiry in order to take her child to bed. Her father showed her where Emmie would be staying and then showed her the room she would be staying in which was across the hall from Emmie's room. As Ginny looked about the room her father pulled up a chair and asked her to sit.

"There are some things we must discuss," her father started, looking older than Ginny had ever remembered seeing him, "Harry doesn't know that you have a child. Let alone that he happens to be the father of said child. Ron and Hermione don't know either." Ginny's head snapped up at this information.

"Why not?"

"They were gone Ginny, and we didn't know if it was your wish that we told them so we didn't, and your brothers haven't said anything either," Ginny was about to speak but her father put up his hand silencing her, "There is more. Harry is staying here, even though he has plenty of property on his own he has only ever felt comfortable here and so your mother and I said he could stay. He is rarely home, since he and Ron have been doing Auror training for the past year." Ginny nodded swallowing the bile that was running up her throat at all of this information. Her father sighed and Ginny knew there was more, there was something he wasn't saying, something her mother didn't say.

"What else dad?"

"He…He's been seeing a woman named Kailen Jimmings for about five months now. She seems to make him happy," Arthur didn't sound particularly happy to be delivering this news to his daughter. Ginny nodded slowly, but ran to the loo as fast as her legs would carry her, retching painfully into the toilet. It was about fifteen minutes before she emerged again only this time it was her mother who greeted her.

"Where's dad?" Ginny asked.

"In his study. He was really upset that he upset you. You can't go upsetting yourself dumpling."

"I didn't upset myself and neither did he. It was his news which upset me. I mean, what the hell is that wanker thinking? He asks me to wait for him, and I go into hiding and five months before I'm aloud to come home he gets a girlfriend?"

"Ginny, it's not that simple," Molly started looking decidedly uncomfortable. Ginny groaned inwardly thinking that she couldn't possibly take any more information, especially if it was information that might potentially let Harry Potter off the hook.

"Please then, explain it to me for I am at a bit of a loss." Ginny snapped. Her mother drew back slightly, but she nodded ruefully and beckoned Ginny back to her room where they both sat on the bed. Molly sighed and looked extremely shaken and Ginny wondered what this was all about.

"When was the last time I wrote to you?" her mother asked. The question caught Ginny off guard and she tried hard to think about it. The last letter she'd received was the one that was brought the day before Ron, Hermione, and Harry showed up at her parent's hiding place. She voiced this and her mother nodded.

"I didn't receive another letter from you. I sent you a couple, did you receive them?"

"No, just a letter from McGonagall saying that correspondence wouldn't be allowed any longer for fear of interception." Ginny stated trying to remember the exact wording of the letter. Molly nodded deep in though.

"She did seem to be losing it in her last year, well, that explains why you didn't receive my letters; she must have been intercepting them."

"But why?"

"Minerva, even though the war was over, was fearful that there still would be death eaters searching for you, she therefore refused to let anyone know where you were—in that, she was faithful to you—but in not being able to tell us where you were and not hearing from you for so long, we feared that you might be dead," Molly stopped short and buried her face in her hands. Ginny hadn't known, she had missed her family and had worried that they might not be alive, but she'd never thought that they'd be thinking the same thing about her.

"Harry took it the hardest, claiming it was his entire fault. He was so broken Ginny, it would have torn anyone to pieces. He worked hard trying to catch as many death eaters as possible so Minerva would relent and tell us _something_ but she never relented. It wasn't until her death that we were finally able to locate you. By that time Harry had found a companion in this other woman and there was nothing we could do. Please believe that Ginny. I never wanted you to feel pain, but war touches everyone, he thought you were dead. He's only had about a week to adjust to this new information that we found you." Molly looked at Ginny with pleading eyes, but Ginny was not yet willing to relent with her anger. Instead, she settled for asking the next obvious question.

"Is she coming for dinner?"


	3. A Disasterous Dinner

**A/N: I would like to express my thanks to those who have taken time to read this story. I would also like to extend a special thanks to _codyesh2_ and _hermioneism_ for leaving reviews. Please, please be kind and remember to review. I NEED to know what you think of this story. Without further ado... **

**_What He Has Left_**

**_ Take this kiss upon the brow!  
And, in parting from you now,  
Thus much let me avow--  
You are not wrong, who deem  
That my days have been a dream;  
Yet if hope has flown away  
In a night, or in a day,  
In a vision, or in none,  
Is it therefore the less gone?  
All that we see or seem  
Is but a dream within a dream._**

**_A Dream Within a Dream by Edgar Allan Poe _**

Chapter 2: A Disastrous Dinner

Hermione Granger burst through the front doors of the Auror Academy as she made her way briskly down the hall. She would not allow tardiness, Ginny was home and she longed to see her lost friend. When Hermione had heard that they had found Ginny, she was filled with so much hope, joy, and regret. In truth, Hermione was ashamed because it was her idea that Harry move on, and seek comfort in others. At the time she had considered herself completely justified. Harry was tearing himself apart with worry, and it was possible that Ginny was dead. Logic clearly pointed to the fact that Ginny might never return. She had therefore sat and chatted with Harry, and had convinced him to see the nice girl from Auror training.

Hermione stopped short, as she passed the hall she was supposed to turn down. _If Ginny ever found out, _Hermione shuddered at the thought. She had spent the past nights crying herself to sleep because she was haunted with the fact that she had betrayed the closest female friend she had ever known. _What if Ginny never wants to speak to me again? No._Hermione decided she wouldn't think about that for now. She righted her path and took away with renewed briskness, which was the real reason she was in a hurry. She needed to be sure that they were there on time so she could pull Ginny aside and explain some things before anyone else told her about Kailen.

Turning down the final hall Hermione spotted a head of red hair as well as an unruly head of black hair. Hermione rushed forward and saw that they were conversing with a pretty witch with shoulder length brown hair and blue eyes; Kailen Jimmings.

"Hello Hermione," Kailen said, though the greeting was stiff and clipped. The air that hung between the foursome was pregnant with negative energy. Hermione gazed at Harry who looked to be extremely pale. Ron was casting nasty looks at Kailen, as he had been wont to do ever since he found out they had found his youngest sister. That also worried Hermione, _what if Ron found out what she'd done?_ Hermione pushed these thoughts from her mind and turned a determined face to Ron.

"Are you ready?" Hermione asked. Ron's face shifted to look at her and he gave her the lopsided grin that she loved so much.

"I'm always ready to see family."

"Alright then," Hermione said in a business-like tone. She pulled out the portkey that Mrs. Weasley had given to her.

"Everyone grab hold."

* * *

After receiving all the terrible information from her mother Ginny felt like she was fourteen again, when Harry was chasing after Cho and she was trying to move on with her life. In her panic she turned to the only person she could think of. 

Ginny threw extra powder into the grate and called out, "Nicholas Vau." Long distance calls required quite a bit of floo powder. When the familiar vision of the empty parlor swam before her she let out a relieved sigh. With a pop, Pimpim was immediately in front of her.

"Pimpim, I need to speak with Nicholas!" The elf nodded and quickly disappeared with a pop. Ginny waited a little while before Nicholas ran into the room.

"_Ginny, what is wrong? Is it Emmie? Has something happened?"_ His genuine concern caught her off guard and she found, like on so many previous occasions, she was extremely happy to have him in her life.

"_No, nothing is wrong with Emmie, except for the fact that she misses you terribly. Nicholas, I don't think this separation is going to work. She refuses to speak English unless she sees you again, and you know none of my family, with the exception of Bill, will be able to understand her." _Ginny watched as Nicholas leaned back in his chair and stared at her.

"_There is something you're not telling me," _he said after a while. It was not what she was hoping for. She was hoping for an, 'I'll be right over.'

"_It's Harry,"_ she conceded. Nicholas nodded knowingly, not saying anything and waiting for her to continue, and so she did. She told him everything that she had learned and sat by helplessly waiting for him to say something.

"_So you want me to come over to make him jealous?"_ he asked finally. Ginny gaped at him, that wasn't what she had thought at all. She just needed a friend to support her through this and he was the only person she had thought to call.

"_No, Nicholas, I want you here to help me. I know that's selfish, but I always feel more at ease whenever you are near. Emmie misses you terribly. You are the only father she's ever known," _Ginny added the last part, hoping to persuade him to come for Emmie's sake.

"_She needs to get to know her real father," _Nicholas said. Ginny felt tears welling up in her eyes. _He wasn't going to come. _In a time when she needed him most he wasn't going to come.

"_What time do you want me to be there?" _he asked finally. Ginny almost leaped through the fire with excitement, but instead opted for thanking her good friend profusely.

"_Come as soon as you can. It's only been five hours but it feels as though it has been five days," _Ginny sighed. Nicholas nodded.

"_I'll lose half my floo powder on this trip alone! Not to mention the paperwork I have to file with both ministries before I can make the trip. Fine. I'll be over as soon as I can."_ And then he was gone and Ginny removed her head from the fireplace. Now that she knew she would have the support of Nicholas there, she just needed to figure out how she was going to tell Harry that Emmie was his daughter. Ginny sighed and cursed in French.

"Watch your language," said a voice from the other room, and Ginny squealed in delight as Bill came marching into the living room. Ginny smiled happily and threw herself into his embrace.

"_I missed you,"_Ginny said, using French as much as possible.

"I missed you too, but why all the French?"

"Well I did live there for three and a half years."

"Not to mention eet is a much preetier language," Fleur stated as she marched across the room to embrace Ginny, something she hadn't done before. Ginny hugged the fair witch and smiled a genuinely happy smile.

"_Hello Fleur."_

"_Hello Ginny, I trust that Nicholas treated you well?" _Ginny nodded emphatically.

"_He is coming tonight, for…moral support,"_ Ginny said and in searching the woman's eyes she knew she understood.

"Nicholas is coming?" Bill asked as their mother and father came downstairs.

"Yes, I need him to be here, I'm having separation issues, as is Emmie," Ginny stated defiantly, daring one of her family members to comment. No one said anything negative, and Fleur was delighted to be seeing her cousin after such a long time.

Molly Weasley looked expectantly around the room. Finally her glare rested on Bill who took a few steps back, raising his hands in innocence.

"I don't know what you're angry about Mum, but it's not my fault."

"Is that so Bilius?" Molly asked. Bill cringed at the use of his full first name. Molly continued, "Then perhaps you can tell me whose fault it is that my grandsons aren't here, hmm?" Bill seemed to lose some color, but it was Fleur who came to his rescue.

"Honestly Molly, we sought it was wiser not to bring zee children." Fleur stated primly staring Molly down. Molly glared back but nodded her agreement not too much later. Ginny stood by watching the scene, longing for these children that were being mentioned. Obviously children of Bill and Fleur, hopefully not too much younger than Emmie. It would be wonderful for Emmie to have cousins to play with. Then again, Ginny wasn't sure how Emmie would act around other children. The child was so accustomed to being the center of attention. There was a _ding _from the kitchen and Mrs. Weasley rushed to fetch the food out of the oven. Soon after that there was a knock at the door.

A group of four people walked inside and upon seeing them Ginny squealed in delight and launched herself after them. Fred and George caught her awkwardly and gave her skeptical looks.

"Do you think she's already forgotten that we're the twins…"

"Gred and Forge? She must have for she's greeting us much too warmly."

Ginny smiled at her brothers but quickly sobered enough not to tackle Angelina and Katie and instead opted for a broad grin. The twins had a fun time regaling everyone with their recent adventures at their newest Weasley Wizard Wheezes in Hogsmead. There was soon another knock on the door and there were new introductions to be made as Charlie entered with a buxom witch on his arm and a glaring Percy behind him. They all greeted Ginny with some fragility and she knew that they were all worried about when Harry would arrive.

* * *

Harry plopped down in a familiar front yard to a growing familiar structure. It was home, but he was afraid to enter. _She is inside,_ Harry thought feeling shivers of delight and terror coursing through his body. He had thought he'd lost her and the sudden realization that he hadn't had brought him so much hope, but in their time apart he had started seeing Kailen and she was a great witch. He couldn't just end it with her could he? 

"Shall we go in?" Kailen asked with fake determination, but Harry smiled at her for trying. They had discussed this issue to no end for about a week and they had both decided that it would be best for Ginny to realize that Harry was in an _adult_ relationship now, at least that is what Kailen had said. Harry didn't know what was so adult about it. In their time together they had done nothing but snog in inappropriate places like a couple of randy teenagers, but it had only every progressed past snogging once, and in that instance Harry had been considerably smashed. Harry couldn't ever get Ginny out of his head when he was kissing Kailen. He knew it was unfortunate to compare Kailen to Ginny, because he knew in his mind that no one measured up, but Harry was determined to allow Kailen the relationship that he had started with her. And so the four people set to enter through the kitchen door where they found a flustered Mrs. Weasley bustling about the kitchen, swishing her wand to and fro.

"Hello dearies, everyone is in the living room," she motioned for them to go and they obeyed. That was when he saw her, sitting between Bill and Charlie, her head thrown back in reckless abandon as she laughed at something the twins were demonstrating, while Percy in the corner was trying hard not to let his amusement show. Harry stopped breathing for a moment as he gazed at her. She was a woman now. How old was she again? She would be twenty on Saturday and Harry didn't know what to do with himself. The long dormant creature in his chest purred in delight at the sight of her. She was slim, yet curvy and her hair flowed gently past her shoulders, it was a brighter red than he'd ever remembered. Her face was longer, less round, more mature. She was drop dead gorgeous.

"Is that her," Kailen whispered harshly in his ear and he was brought back to the land of functional thinking. He looked at Kailen who was nervously patting her brown hair and straightening her blouse. She looked…_worried. _

_And with good reason too, _thought a cynical part of his brain.

"Oi! Having fun without the rest of the family? Couldn't wait until I got here to tell the good stories?" Ron harrumphed as he led the awkward group into the room. Harry thought he saw Ginny's smile falter, but she was up in a dash and embracing Ron with a fierceness to rival that of Mrs. Weasley. Harry could smell her while she was this close; she still held that intoxicating flowery scent that drove his senses wild. He heard her whisper brokenly into Ron's neck, "I've missed you so much." Ron's only reply was to nod stupidly. It was the second time Harry had ever seen Ron show so much affection toward his sister.

Harry heard a soft sob to his left and saw that Hermione had tears streaming down her cheeks making her face all blotchy. Ginny raised her eyes to Hermione and he saw that Ginny was on the verge of tears as well.

"Hermione," Ginny said outstretching her arms. Hermione walked into the embrace and stayed there for the longest time crying outright causing Ron to look at her as though she were barmy. It was a long time before they broke contact and once they did Harry caught her gaze and something flickered there, something so infinitesimal that later Harry would wonder if he'd really seen anything at all, but she smiled at him. It wasn't the same smile she gave Ron or Hermione, it was more of a courtesy smile.

"Hello Harry," she said. Harry moved to hug her but she stepped backward and extended her hand. Harry was so pained that he didn't know what to do except shake the offered hand. Even the feel of her hand inside his was enough to drive him mad. _Bloody hell, what's the matter with me?_ Ginny, however, had turned her attention to the last person in the room.

"Hello, I'm Ginny Weasley," Ginny said kindly extending the same welcome she had to Harry. Kailen took the offer and seemed to calm considerably.

"I'm Kailen Jimmings, I'm Harry's girlfriend," Kailen said, Harry thought she might be testing the waters a bit, but Ginny plastered on her courtesy smile and moved to walk back to her position between her two eldest brothers. Harry followed her movement with his eyes and almost didn't notice when there was a rush of flames announcing the entrance of another person in the room. When Harry got a good look at the man, it was enough to set his blood to boil. Fleur's cousin, Nicholas, was being warmly embraced by Ginny Weasley.

* * *

Ginny was so grateful for the tell tale sound of a flooing person. She didn't think she could bear one more moment of pretend. When she saw Nicholas dusting himself off from the trip, it was like her insides settled and she was home once more. 

"_Nicholas, you came," _Ginny said, not noticing that she had switched to French.

"_Of course I came; it was a long journey though. France to England is not a pleasant trip." _Nicholas whined kissing Ginny's forehead in an affectionate manner. Ginny smiled at him and grasped his hand pulling him further into the room.

"Everyone, this is Nicholas, I'm sure you remember him from Bill and Fleur's wedding? He's Fleur's cousin and was my company in my time away," Ginny said gazing adoringly at her best friend in the whole world. Nicholas gave her a wary look but waved to the room.

"Bonjour everyone," he greeted. Fleur was up in a second greeting her cousin and fussing over his clothes, asking him how he'd been all this time. When Nicholas finally got a word in edgewise it was to Ginny.

"_Where is Emmie?"_

"_Upstairs, sleeping," _Ginny replied. It was at that moment that a red faced Ron stomped up to them and said, "Can you please stop speaking in French? The rest of us can't bloody understand you!"

Ginny smiled at her brother apologetically. She looked around and saw the mingled confusion on a lot of faces. Hermione, on the other hand, looked extremely pensive which set a queasy feeling in Ginny's stomach. If Hermione found out about Emmie and told Harry then Ginny would have a mess to clean up later. Truth be told, she still hadn't found a solution to telling Harry that he was a father. It only made it more difficult that he was blissfully content with the pretty brunette in the corner.

"I'm just going to show our guest the house; you all stay and enjoy the party. Come on Nicholas," Ginny motioned for him to follow and he did so obligingly. Ginny noticed that Fleur and Bill were following as well and she sighed, she wasn't sure that she was ready to share her daughter with the rest of the world quite yet. She didn't want to drop the poor child into the middle of the Weasley family; there were so many people to get to know. Sensing her unease Nicholas rubbed her arm and Ginny smiled kindly.

She led the way up the stairs and down the hall on the third floor. She stopped just outside her daughter's door and entered quietly. There in the dimming light of the day lay the most precious sight. Ginny thought she might never tire of watching her daughter sleep, the gentle rise and fall of her chest. The peaceful look on the young girl's face was enough to touch the cracked edges on Ginny's heart. Fleur made a soft gasp as she looked at Emmie.

"Ginny, she's beautiful," Bill breathed taking a look at his niece, and Ginny felt her heart swell with pride. She knew that her daughter was a beautiful child, but it always helped when other people recognized it as well.

"She looks just like you," Fleur spoke softly. Nicholas moved forward and knelt before the bed, brushing away the hair from Emmie's face. He placed a soft kiss on her cheek and Ginny watched her daughter's eyes open, slowly adjusting and taking in everything around her.

"_Nicholas, you came," _Emmie exclaimed. Her excitement was evident in her features and voice. She sat up and put her small hands on either side of his face.

"_I could not stay away my angel," _Nicholas said, his voice slightly sad. Emmie cast a long look at Ginny. It was a wonder the way her daughter could look at her in one instance and remind her so much of Harry.

"_Mother has been upset ever since we left," _Emmie told Nicholas, and then, _"have you been missing us too?"_

"_Every moment, Emmie. You know how much I love you."_

"_And Mummy?"_

"_You know I love your mother very much," _Nicholas relented.

"_So then be my daddy and then you and mummy can be happy together!" _Emmie said with renewed fervor. This was not the first time that Emmie had asked Nicholas to marry Ginny. They had talked about it extensively in the days when Ginny had thought that Harry was dead, but no matter how much they discussed it they had decided that they did not have the instinct to go against the heart.

"_Emmie, you know that can't happen." _Nicholas stated firmly.

"_Why not?"_whined the young girl; fresh tears coming to her eyes.

"_Emmie, I will always be your daddy, as long as you consider me such, but you have a real daddy, your father—"_

"_I've never met him," _Emmie pouted crossing her arms in front of her chest.

"_No, but you have seen pictures," _Nicholas reminded her and she nodded.

"_I dream about him. He's very sad Nicholas, can we not help him?"_

"_Help him how?"_

"_Find mummy and be with her again," _Emmie stated with renewed determination.

"_Yes, we can. Your daddy is here today." _Nicholas told her. Ginny watched as the confusion crossed her small features before it was replaced with uncertainty.

"_Do I have to meet him?"_

"_Yes," _this answer came from Ginny. Emmie looked at her mother and smiled holding her arms out. Ginny rushed to her daughter's side on the bed and scooped her into an embrace.

"_He does not know you are his daughter," _Nicholas told the young girl.

"_Good. I do not want him to know."_

"_Emmie, why not?"_Ginny asked appalled. She was silently relieved that her daughter would not be introducing herself to Harry as his flesh and blood, but it disturbed her that she did not wish to even acknowledge the fact. However, when Emmie turned her brown eyes to Ginny, she felt the pain and fear within them.

"_What if he does not like me?" _Emmie asked. Ginny felt her heart crack a little more. It was Nicholas who answered, _"Who would dare to hate an angel?"_

Emmie extended her little arms to Nicholas who took her in his and exchanged a silent look with Ginny. It was time. As the trio moved through the door that still held Bill and Fleur, Bill stopped her.

"She really is beautiful Ginny," he said looking Ginny dead in the eyes.

"I know, she's exquisite," Ginny breathed.

"Her French and speech development are impeccable; does she speak English at all?" Bill asked.

"She speaks English, yes. She prefers French, however. Nicholas rarely speaks English and she adores him, as you saw and so…she mostly speaks French, but I have stressed the importance of English," Ginny sighed. Emmie was now back to her happy self, pulling on Nicholas's ear as he made funny faces at her. It was time, and so they made their way downstairs.

* * *

It had taken everything that he'd learned in Auror training about self control, to keep him from rushing forward to attack the Frenchman. He'd recognized him immediately as the same man he'd hexed at Bill and Fleur's wedding. The last night he'd seen Ginny before today. Harry pushed the thought from his mind; it was too much to think about at the moment. 

"Are you alright Harry?" Harry looked over at Kailen who was fidgeting in the corner that she had unknowingly placed herself in. Harry smiled at her, she had been a source of comfort in the past five months, and Harry didn't know what he'd have done if she hadn't been there. Still there was something inside of him telling him that he was being unfair to her. He should never have brought her here, but the Weasley's had insisted that Ginny know about Kailen since Harry had refused to leave her.

"I'm fine, how are you?" Harry asked grabbing her hand and pulling her from the corner. Kailen melted into his touch and brought her arms around his middle, making Harry feel like a caged animal.

"As long as you're here, I'm fine. Everyone seems a little tense though, and I mean I can understand why…" Kailen trailed off casting an expecting look at Harry, but he made no indication that he was going to comment; and so she continued, "That man that she said she'd spent her time away with. He's very fetching." Harry could hear the fake casualness in her voice and bristled at the mention of the man, but he'd told himself that he had nothing to be jealous over. If Ginny and _Nicholas _were together, then there would be nothing for it; he would have to be happy for her and not try to interfere because he had Kailen. It was only fair that Ginny was allowed to move on as well.

It still set the monster in Harry's chest to grumble and Harry felt more unease as his mind drifted to what the couple might have done. Three and a half years in isolation cannot be an easy thing to endure. What had they been up to, what did they do to keep themselves busy? Harry felt bile rising in his throat at the thought that Nicholas might have touched Ginny, his Ginny; made love to Ginny, _his _Ginny. Maybe he'd tricked her into some evil deed by turning up the veela charm full force. _Or maybe she was willing, _offered the sardonic voice in Harry's head, but he quickly pushed away the thought.

"He's part veela, that's why he's so…_fetching _as you would say." Harry grumbled. Kailen nodded and dropped the subject, seeming to sense that she was heading into dangerous territory.

"Dinner is served," Mrs. Weasley called. The horde of people made their way into the backyard and started seating themselves along the massive table. Mr. Weasley was situated at the head with Mrs. Weasley making her way to his right and Percy situating himself to the left. Ron moved to sit next to his mother, but she told him to move two seats down, that those seats were reserved for Bill and Fleur. When Ron situated himself, Harry took the seat next to him while Hermione and Kailen took the seats across from them.

There was comfortable chatter as Charlie and the twins floated the food outside. The air was warm and Harry was reminded of the many summers spent out here, like this with his favorite family. Kailen had started to engage Harry in conversation, but Harry found that his attention was drawn to the people making their way outside. Bill and Fleur came out first talking in hurried French and Ginny followed with Nicholas behind her. This is not what caused Harry's heart to contract; it was the little girl giggling at Nicholas while the man held her in his arms that caused Harry's insides to go to pieces. He had dreamed of this little girl.

* * *

Ginny braced herself as silence engulfed the outside air. She stopped as did Nicholas and watched as everyone stared at them. Ginny realized that this was going to be much more difficult than she had thought. 

"Mummy?" Emmie asked, her brow creased in confusion as she saw all of the people. Ginny panicked as she saw Hermione's eyebrows disappear within her hair. _Oh shite, she's probably got it all figured out by now._ Ginny quelled the queasy feeling within her and smiled bravely at the assembled family and friends.

"Hello everyone, this is my daughter Emmie. A lot of you haven't seen her in a while and some of you have never met her before." Ginny said, wondering why an introduction of family should feel so formal. Emmie, however did not sense the same awkwardness from her mother, instead she beamed happily at the crowd.

"Hello, my name is Emmie Lilica Weasley and I'm almost this many," she stated proudly holding up four fingers. Ginny felt her heart thud inside her chest. But Emmie continued, "You all must be Mummie's family! She has missed you a lot." No one moved, except for Harry who stood and stormed past them into the house. Ginny nodded at the group apologetically before she kissed her daughter's forehead and made her way into the house.

* * *

**A/N: Once again, please take a short time to review. It really fuels me to continue. Many thanks, Meg **


	4. Breaking Mended Hearts

Disclaimer: I only own Nicholas. JKR is master of the rest.

A/N: Forgive me, it has been a long time, I know this. College is no easy thing, I'll tell you that. I hope that most of you will stick with me. These characters keep pulling me every which way and I'm not sure that I like where they're taking me, but I felt as though I could do nothing more with this chapter. There really wasn't a good stopping point. Anywho, I'm sorry for the delay, it's probably going to be a while before the next update but I thank you for your patience. And now for some acknowledgments:

To Codyesh2: It is my humble belief that before Harry and Ginny can stand time together, they must first work out some things apart. Fear not, however, because their time is coming.

To Gina: Thank you for your kind words, I'm glad you've enjoyed this story thus far.

To IloveHarry25: I cannot express how deeply happy I am that this story has found a place in your heart, I hope this chapter doesn't dissapoint.

To Mark Wink: Thank you.

To Hazeleyes20: You are clever. Here is a chapter to test your theory.

To Hermioneism: Thank you for enjoying my writing, I try to make it interesting to read, I'm glad that no one is confused by my syntax.

To Loyd1989: Wow! Phenomenal. Thank you, thank you.

To Tess: Thank you for appreciating Nicholas, it is my hope that more people will come to love him as he is very close to my heart.

FARI: Thank you for your insistence.

To Janie: Your review did quite a bit to fuel me to continue, thank you for taking the time to respond.

To Megan: I am so pleased that you love this story.

To Anotherloveroffanfiction: I hope that this chapter answers your questions.

To Wondergirl9879: Thank you, I truly cannot fully express my gratitude.

To Wopsidaisy: I'm glad that this story moved you, it is a real confidence booster to receive a review like yours.

To Msginnypotter: Thank you for your review, and all in due time.

And finally, To Amanda.Panda16: I'm glad you liked everything so far, thank you for your review.

Whew! I think that was everyone. If I forgot you please let me know. I want to express my gratitude not only to those who review, but to everyone who reads this story. Thank you all for your support. On with the chapter:

* * *

**What He Has Left**

**_"Forgiving does not erase the bitter past. A healed memory is not a deleted memory. Instead, forgiving what we cannot forget creates a new way to remember. We change the memory of our past into a hope for our future."_**

**_Lewis B. Smedes_**

**Chapter 3**: _Breaking Mended Hearts_

Ginny stood in the kitchen, shaking from head to trainers. Thinking back, she came to the quick realization that she'd never been this scared in her entire life. _Blimey!_ She wasn't certain as to what she was going to say just yet. First things first, she needed to find him the rest would hopefully follow. Ginny hadn't heard a distinctive dissaparation _pop,_ so she figured he must still be inside the house. She heard movement on the stairs and followed the sound wringing her hands as her nerves took over. She didn't think she could have more fear toward facing the man she loved—_once _loved—still _loved_? Ginny shook her head furiously, now was not the time for thinking, it was the time for action. _Oh God, _Ginny thought, _brilliant really, acting without thinking._ Ginny thought she might like a drink, but no, she needed her wits about her. _Constant vigilance!_ Rang through her head and Ginny thought it was fate mocking her that Moody's voice should fill her mind at this point. _Silence, _Ginny commanded her mind.

She could feel the sweat as it slowly collected in her clenched palms. No amount of mental preparation had done any good whatsoever in this situation. She reached the landing to the second level of the house where she knew she and Emmie's rooms were located, but wondered, in a slightly diabolical state of hysteria, if her parents were really so cruel that they would station she and her daughter on the same floor to which Harry's room was located. Then Ginny allowed herself to think about why it was that her feet seemed to move without her mind telling them to. A crash came from a room down the hall and Ginny thought she might cry because her parents _had_ been cruel enough to place Harry's room on the same floor.

Moving her feet was like trying to wade through drying cement and Ginny thought she might never reach his door. She could hear the crash of several more items and faintly wondered what he was demolishing in that room. She raised her hand to knock on his door just as a hand reached out and grabbed for her arm painfully. Ginny let out a pained yelp as a furious Hermione dragged her from Harry's door. Ginny was faintly aware of the fact that Kailen had passed them and was knocking lightly at Harry's door with little success, until at the last seconds, before Ginny was dragged into her own room by a crazed brunette, another brunette was being let into the room of her first love.

Ginny was shoved, none to gently, onto her bed by a mad Hermione who flicked her wand a few times making sure the door was shut, securely locked, and that all the proper charms were in place so their conversation wouldn't be heard. Ginny had the fleeting thought that she had finally been allowed to return home for a few brief hours only to be murdered by her best friend. Before Ginny could muster any form of vocal argument, Hermione crumpled into a blubbering mass of bushy hair on the floor.

Ginny was painfully confused.

"Herm—"

"I'm so sorry Ginny," the creature cried out and Ginny was scared out of her mind. What the bloody hell was wrong with her friend?

"Hermione, what is wrong? You're acting like bloody Lavender Brown or something. Blubbering all over the place like you've done something wrong—"

"Oh but Ginny, I have. I—I've d-done s-s-something t-t-terribly—"

"God Hermione, calm down. This is not the homecoming I need. You're really scaring me. Did? I mean…there is no good way to ask this. Did you shag Ron?"

"WHAT?" That had seemed to be the break in the surface that Ginny needed. Hermione had recovered herself and her blotchy face was rapidly shading brighter reds over and over. Ginny couldn't help but let a smile spread across her face.

"Oh, you did!—"

"Ginny—I—"

"I mean, I was only trying to get a laugh out of you or something, but you have been shagging Ron so…Wow! A bit more information than I was hoping for, but at least you're no longer being completely mental, though I don't know if shacking up with Ron is that far from mental but hey," Ginny pantomimed raising a glass in the air, "to each her own, right?"

Hermione looked completely mortified, but soon burst into laughter in spite of herself. Ginny let out a low sigh of relief. Hermione stood with as much grace as one could muster after such a display and slowly moved to join Ginny on the bed. She performed a few beauty charms to remove the blotchiness from her face before she embraced Ginny. There seemed to be desperation in her squeeze that set Ginny a little on edge.

"So, I'm guessing you have something to tell me?" Ginny asked, serenely pleased that she wasn't being cornered by this scary woman and asked to produce every amount of evidence that Emmie couldn't possibly be Harry Potter's child.

"Ginny, it's just awful. Let's just forget about it, please." Hermione asked fidgeting with her wand which caused blue sparks of magic to scatter the room. Ginny eyed the wand apprehensively, wondering to herself whether it would be bad taste to confiscate the potential weapon from her friend.

"Hermione, if you have something to tell me, then, you may as well tell me."

"I've just missed you so much—"

"I've missed you too Hermione."

"No, please, Ginny. Let me finish or I may never get it out."

Ginny lay down on her bed and prepared herself for whatever speech Hermione was about to make. She was certain it was going to be the usual overly rehearsed monologue and while she wasn't necessarily jumping in line to hear one, it was keeping her from talking to Harry so…she supposed she might as well hear it out to the end. Another thought occurred to Ginny, if she was in here preparing to be subjected to a 'Hermione speech' that meant that Harry and his brunette tart were in his room, doing God only knew what. She watched from the corner of her eye as Hermione stood, in distinct Hermione fashion, and got in what Ron liked to call her "serious talk stance". If she didn't think she'd get hexed for it, Ginny might have groaned audibly.

"I've missed you terribly, we all did, Ron and Harry too. Especially Harry—please Ginny, you promised not to say anything and I really want to say this because you need to know and I need to know that you know. Where was I? Oh yes, well, those first few months when we were away were the worst. We didn't have any correspondence with anyone and we were on what seemed to be a wild goose chase. I didn't have all the proper materials that I would have preferred and when Ron wasn't hungry or Harry wasn't moping well we would generally be able to enjoy each other's company. Well, I suppose that doesn't put it quite right. We were better able to tolerate each other. Yes, that sounds more accurate."

"I don't know if you knew this, but I'm a light sleeper. My mum has told me stories of when I was younger and—well—sorry, off topic." Ginny was growing more and more intrigued as Hermione stumbled along. Never before had she witnessed this girl, this woman, so flustered in speech. It almost made Ginny forget that Harry was whiling away with the beautiful brunette.

"Anyway, Harry would toss and turn in the night. I would often times just listen to the sound of his rustling and hope that his dreams weren't tormenting him terribly, but mostly I think, he dreamt of you," Hermione looked at Ginny then with a sad sort of smile on her face. Ginny was angered at the hope she felt bubbling in her stomach.

"He would sometimes whisper in his sleep, 'She loves me', and these would be on the less restless nights and I'd know that he was content to continue because he was fighting to get back to you. Thank you for telling him, by the way, that you loved him. Without that he would never have been able to do what he did. It's just that, after he managed to destroy Voldemort," Hermione chewed the name viciously, "and once he was on the road to recovery, well, we had no idea where you were…and poor Professor McGonagall. I don't think I've seen Harry so angry as when she refused to give up your location."

"Harry ran around England, not to mention several areas in Russia and Germany to round up most of the Death Eaters. She still wouldn't tell us where you were or even if you were alive," by this point Hermione's words were moving faster and slurring together. Ginny found that it was becoming extremely difficult to understand her.

"He was dying without you—or with the thought of you out there without him—or possibly—dead…and he blamed himself. He was so unhealthy, you should have seen him and, oh God Ginny, he's one of my best friends and I was only thinking logically. I was sure the reason Professor McGonagall refused to tell us where you were was simply put—she knew you were dead…and…I wanted Harry to be happy. I may have," and here was where Hermione lost Ginny by rushing through her words so fast that all she heard at the end was, "—but I _swear_ Ginny that I'd thought we'd never see you again."

Ginny held up a hand and slowly shook her head. She was having a difficult time grasping the last few statements.

"You wanted Harry to be happy and so you what?" Ginny asked.

"I—well, that is to say. I told him that he should date other people…Kailen Jimmings…specifically."

In this instance Ginny felt her anger spark, sputter, and die. It was like a fire had started in her chest and right as it was growing it was doused by a bucket of ice water. Ginny found that she couldn't bring herself to be properly angry. She instead felt a deep sense of betrayal, a hurt that spread through her chest and down to her toes, forbidding her to move. She stared at Hermione for a long while, wondering how her friend could have been so callous. Hermione, for her part, was looking as though she wanted to die. Ginny couldn't find the strength to vocally respond and opted for nodding stupidly. It was simple, Hermione had been rash and confused and had made a stupid decision and because of it Harry was now shacked up with the brunette bint and there was nothing that Ginny could do about it…yet.

"Please say something," Hermione pleaded. Ginny wished she could say something, anything, but hopefully something scathing that would show Hermione just how hurt she was. The lump in Ginny's throat was giving her trouble and made speech impossible. It was in this instance that Ginny understood two things very clearly. First, she could never truly hate Hermione for anything, because Hermione was a creature of logic who didn't understand that the world can't be summed up in guidelines. And second, while Hermione had pushed Kailen on Harry it was not Harry's obligation to shack up with the woman so easily.

It was this latter understanding that hurt Ginny the most.

Harry had chosen to move on.

"Ginny?" Hermione was still waiting for her response.

"Just forget about it Hermione. It was a silly thing to do on your part, but—well. It doesn't matter," Ginny finished dejectedly. Hermione's face filled with panic once more and Ginny groaned knowing that Hermione was about to spew some more logic at her. Ginny was fairly certain she didn't want to receive it quite yet.

"Oh, Ginny. You don't blame _Harry _do you?" the look on Hermione's face made Ginny want to laugh. Her best friend always made the most unusual faces when she was upset about something. Still, Hermione continued, "It isn't his fault—"

"No! Hermione, don't defend him!"

"But Ginny, it truly isn't his fault. I was the one who put the thought into his head."

"I understand Hermione. Harry, however, didn't need to feel the urge to rush that woman into his bed—"

"Well, really, I don't know if they've moved _that _far in their relationship," Hermione mumbled. Ginny pretended not to hear her and instead, both women's arguments were being drowned out by the yelling voices outside. _Oh no, _Ginny's mind was frantic, _Emmie and Nicholas! I can't believe I left the outside._

Ginny flew downstairs in a flash. It might have been her imagination but she could have sworn she'd seen a head of unruly black hair in her peripheral vision before she had taken to the stairs.

* * *

Harry felt as though he were back in his sixth year at Hogwarts. He felt as though he had polyjuice potion bubbling in his stomach, firewhisky burning down his throat, and a beast clawing at his chest. To add insult to injury he felt as though he had been confounded. He couldn't think straight, couldn't move, and it didn't help that Kailen sat next to him. He has been able to avoid her questions easily enough. He managed to stay silent through the inquisition of "Are you alright?" "You can tell me what's wrong." "Please talk to me, Harry." He had wished that he could tell her something, anything. He wished he could express his feelings. He couldn't, not yet, not until he could fully grasp the situation. Now Kailen sat next to him idly twirling her wand.

Her actions reminded him of Ginny. Harry and Ginny used to sit on the lawn at Hogwarts, doing homework, wrestling, kissing, and many times—simply enjoying one another's company. Ginny would often times lay down, her head in Harry's lap, and trace lazy figures across the sky with her wand—figures that were outlined in green sparks…

_The green sparks trailed lazily above Harry and Ginny, slowly acquiring shapes and motions: a doe looking after her fawn, a dog chasing a bone, two people kissing._

"_Why green?"_

"_Hmm?" Ginny responded sleepily._

"_Your magic, it's green," Harry elaborated._

"_So it would seem," Ginny chuckled still twirling her wand; the image was of two people entwined in a fierce embrace. The intimacy of the image set something off in Harry and he found that his face was flushing embarrassingly. _

"_Really, Ginny." Harry insisted, he couldn't say why, but even though he thought he knew the answer, he still needed her to say it. Ginny sat up. Harry was instantly sad for the lack of contact and watched, mesmerized, as her fiery locks fell about her face. She searched his eyes intently. Harry knew in this moment that he couldn't imagine spending his time with anyone else._

_He took time to notice that she was worrying her lower lip. She only did this when she was very nervous, a mannerism that Harry enjoyed, but never pointed out to her. She opened her mouth to speak then seemed to think better of it. Then, her eyes met his and Harry stopped breathing. __**What had they been talking about? **__Harry wondered idly. In that moment the subject of their previous conversation didn't seem at all important. All that mattered was Ginny, and her beauty, and her mouth against his. However, before he could move to kiss her, Ginny began to speak._

"_I suppose it's for the same reason your magic is red," her whisper was barely heard over the beating of his own heart._

Harry shook the memory from his mind. He let the coolness of the room seep into his skin as the distant memory of that warm summer day edged away, leaving him drenched in reality.

"Harry," Kailen asked gently placing a hand upon his arm, "are you alright? You sort of zoned out for a short while."

"Erm—yeah, I'm fine."

Kailen sighed heavily and laid her head on Harry's shoulder. Harry hadn't felt weight quite like it before. He vaguely thought that maybe he should ask her to move, but she was already speaking.

"So, she has a daughter." Harry seethed inside. Those odd sensations were coming back to him once more, overpowering him until he wanted to lash out and hit something…and then…all he felt was emptiness. This was his entire fault. He never should have left Ginny behind. She had wanted to be with him and he should have wanted to be with her more than anything. He _had _wanted to be with her more than anything. _Why _hadn't he allowed her to be with him? Harry thought his head was going to explode. Why had she let him run off so easily? Why hadn't she fought him? However, no matter how much Harry tried to pin some of the blame off on Ginny…he found that he couldn't. _He _had done this, he had left her in danger and pushed her right into the Frenchman's arms—_his __**bed**_ _is more like it_—bit the cynical voice in Harry's head.

Images rushed—unbidden—to Harry's mind.

_Ginny's face, flushed, eyes sparkling, and a half smile twitching at her lips_.

_Ginny naked against his sheets._

_Ginny's hair spread out on his pillow, a halo of fire around her head._

_Nicholas kissing his way up Ginny's body._

_Nicholas touching Ginny lower and lower._

_Ginny writhing in pleasure, pleasure that Harry wasn't providing._

Harry retched into the trash bin near his bed. Distantly he heard Kailen softly gasp, "Oh, my." Harry welcomed the distraction, anything to keep the images out of his head.

"Harry, I'll be back. I'm going to grab you some water from the kitchen." Kailen exited the room quickly. Harry knew she used the water as an excuse—she could have simply conjured the water—Kailen, however, was extremely uncomfortable around vomit. Harry muttered a quick cleansing spell. That was when he heard the noises. He'd been so deeply immersed in disturbing images that he hadn't noticed the raised voices that were becoming louder by the moment. He stuck his head out of his door in time to catch a vision of red hair streak down the stairs. He made a quick decision to follow. _If I can talk to her, maybe I can set things to rights. But what would I say?_

In his haste to follow Ginny he missed the figure that was hurrying from the other direction and collided into the bushy haired figure. Hermione emitted a small—_ooft_—as she stumbled to the floor.

"Oh, I'm sorry Hermione," Harry said as he reached a hand down to help her up. Hermione hastily dusted invisible dirt from her ministry robes. Harry thought that she might be avoiding making eye contact with him. Why, he couldn't say.

"No, Harry, I'm sorry." She slowly lifted her head. Harry could now see that she was harried looking, with puffy red eyes. Harry groaned inwardly. Crying females always made him feel distinctly uncomfortable.

"Er…you're not crying, are you Hermione?" Harry instantly saw that this was the wrong question to ask and hastily changed the statement so she wouldn't produce more tears, "What I mean is…can I do anything to help?"

"N-no," she stuttered seemingly embarrassed and trying to compose herself. Harry appreciated the effort.

"And I'm not crying," she added, "not anymore anyway."

There was a sound like something close to an explosion from outside. Harry remembered his purpose and hurried down the stairs, through the kitchen, and out the back door, all the while followed closely by Hermione.

Ginny was going to _murder _Ron. When she had marched outside she found Bill holding back a furious Fleur. Percy was still at the table looking on in mild disgust. Charlie and his date had mysteriously disappeared, while Fred, George, Angelina, and Katie had all gathered away from the table with interested looks on their faces. Arthur held a squirming Emmie by his side, while Molly was screaming furiously at a red faced Ron who held his wand pointed at Nicholas. Correction, an upside down, suspended in mid-air, Nicholas. Ginny lost her control and shrieked, "What the _bloody hell _do you think you're doing Ronald?"

If Ron was startled by the anger in Ginny's voice he only showed it by flinching slightly at the sound of her voice. With what seemed to be bitter resolve Ron tightened his features and continued to glare at the person he held captive.

"Nicholas," Emmie sobbed from behind Arthur's embrace. Nicholas tried twisting his body to face the young girl; he wasn't very successful but still tried to reassure the young girl.

"_It is okay Emmie, my angel. It is more fun than it looks," _his French was strained as Ginny assumed it was probably extremely difficult to speak in that position. Ginny thought she was about to be consumed by her fury.

"Ronald Weasley if you don't put Nicholas down this instant I'm going to injure you,"  
Ginny threatened, "_severely,_" she added for good measure.

"I can't just let him go Ginny, he made you a dishonest woman," Ron reddened with each word that he spoke. Ginny had had quite enough of her brother's thick-headedness and lost all control. She didn't realize the magnitude of the spell she had cast until she made sure Nicholas was safely right side up on the ground once more.

"_Well, that was uncomfortable_," was Nicholas' lackluster response. Then he said, "_However, I'm positive it is more comfortable than that._" Ginny looked to where Nicholas was pointing and saw the product of her power.

Ron was lying helplessly on the ground while hordes of bat bogeys attacked his face. Ginny felt a small sense of satisfaction before she became painfully aware of the presence of Harry; Hermione was with him and rushed forward to help Ron.

"Nice work munchkin," George commended, "I think you nearly blew his face off with that one."

After a few tries, Hermione, who wasn't looking too terribly concerned, was finally able to clear Ron's face of all the bogeys showing the full extent of the damage. Ron was rolling from side to side moaning in pain and holding his nose. When Hermione finally managed to remove Ron's hands she gasped, as did all of those who had gathered in the tight circle to see. The area around Ron's nose was already turning a ghastly shade of deep purple.

"Hermione, ow mate that looks like it hurts, can you make the pain stop?" Harry asked from Ron's side; Ginny felt anger flare within her once more. Why was Harry taking Ron's side? Hermione tried her best but Ron kept moaning in pain.

_Serves him right, _Ginny thought viciously. She couldn't help but be hurt by the fact that Ron too had allowed Harry to move on quickly. Had she really been that expendable? Why had her brother found it so easy to betray her? Ginny had to shake the thoughts from her mind before she drove herself mad with questions and self pity.

"All I can do for now is conceal the bruises, the pain will probably remain, for a day at the most," Hermione reassured when she heard Ron whimper pathetically.

Ginny had missed so much. Ron and Hermione weren't denying their feelings for each other anymore. The gentle way that Hermione checked over Ron's features made Ginny a bit sick to be honest. She was happy for them though, no matter how bitter she felt, she could not deny them her blessing.

"Remind me never to make Ginny angry," Fred muttered to no one in particular. A nervous chuckle passed about the group and everyone was staring at Ginny amazedly.

"Oh, is everyone still out here? I went out front for a bit of fresh air and—sweet Merlin, what happened to your face Ron?" Everyone turned to look at a surprised Kailen who was holding a glass of water. Ginny found that she couldn't help but smile. There was a sense of power in knowing that Kailen would never fully comprehend what she was up against.

* * *

A/N: Thanks again, I'm sorry it wasn't long. Please leave a review, they really help kick me into gear.

Sincerely,

Meg


	5. The Things We Never Say

**What He Has Left**

**Chapter 4:** The Things We Never Say

Half an hour following the fiasco in the garden found the Weasleys crowded in the living room. Hermione was still trying to convince Ron that there was nothing she could do to heal his wounds in harsh whispers. Ron continued to look decidedly grumpy which angered Hermione who finally exploded, "You brought this upon yourself you know!" Ron calmly stood up and moved to sit sheepishly in the opposite corner of the room casting worried glances in Hermione's direction. Every once in a while he would reach up to feel his bruised face, wince in pain, and lower his hand once more.

Ginny felt no sympathy quite yet. She had finally threatened the truth out of Nicholas who kept trying to tell her, "Eet was nussing."

"Your English is terrible," Ginny mocked.

"_I said, it was nothing," _Nicholas amended; he was not one to be spurred by her teasing.

"I understood what you had said, I was merely commenting on the fact that those who are less trained in the art of accent interpretation might find talking to you a bit difficult." Ginny admitted, only half teasing now.

"_Do you suppose that is why your brother attacked me?"_ Nicholas asked innocently enough, Ginny could tell that he was attempting a joke, but she still felt really terrible for leaving Nicholas alone with Ron.

"Nicholas, I—" Ginny began, but Nicholas shushed her and placed his arm around her shoulder in a half hug.

"_Do not worry about it Ginevra," _he only said Ginevra when he was trying to be epically sincere, "_I believe now is not the time for apology, but truth._"

Ginny's head snapped up to look into the eyes of her closest friend. Surely he couldn't mean…not after all that had happened. However, Nicholas did mean what she dreaded; he was inclining his head to Harry who was sitting on the bottom of the stairs talking to Arthur.

"_He has to know,_" Nicholas began and Ginny slid out from underneath his arm, it seemed like the most suffocating place to be at the moment.

"_No," _Ginny commanded in French, "_It isn't the right time._"

"_Ginevra, when is going to be the right time? Never, if you keep putting it off. Look, his companion has just slipped into the kitchen; I will distract her while you steal him away to explain._"

Ginny knew that she wasn't going to win the argument. She knew that she was going to have to talk to Harry eventually, but she didn't want it to have to be now.

For Ginny Weasley, there were things you wanted to do, and the things you never wished you had to do. Confronting Harry Potter on the issue of their love child was one of the many things that Ginny had wished she would never have to do. Nevertheless, Ginny was not one to back down from a challenge. If there was anything she had learned from Charlie, it was that you never hide from the things you fear; you face your fears straight on and keep pushing until they break.

The main issue, still, was that Ginny had no idea how to start the conversation. '_Hello ponce, remember me?—your girlfriend is stunning by the way. Anywho, remember that night that we had sex and you left without __**really**__ saying goodbye?—'_ Ginny couldn't help but wonder why she'd never planned this speech out before. Truth be told she didn't think any explanation was necessary, even though people gushed over the fact that Emmie looked like Ginny, Ginny couldn't help but notice that Emmie looked remarkably like Harry. Why couldn't anyone else see it? Not even Harry!

Ginny had often times dreamt how this would go. _Harry would walk in and recognize his daughter immediately, after all, that's what parents do. He would rush and embrace Ginny, asking her to understand why he had to leave. She would forgive him, of course, and they would be a family_. Ginny had a lot of dreams. Nicholas had read somewhere that excessive and emotional dreams happened to be a common stage of pregnancy for witches.

She would provide Harry with the family she always knew he had yearned for. She hadn't factored in a possible new girlfriend, and Harry's jealousy. This situation was rubbish, pure rubbish. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she still hadn't had dinner. Where does the time go? They had lost so much time apart, was their child really enough to bring them back together? Did she even want to be with a man who would throw her memory away so easily, sans what Hermione said because to Ginny it didn't really matter.

"Do you mind if we go have a quick chat?" Ginny hadn't realized that she was speaking the words until they were hanging between the man she thought she knew and her wounded pride. He didn't speak for a solid minute, and even then all he gave was a slight nod.

His indifference angered her probably more than she was able to fully comprehend at the moment. There were things about this moment that felt so out of place. He didn't reach for her hand as he led the way upstairs. He didn't smile in her direction when they reached the landing. He didn't hold the door open for her when he entered his room. Where had her Harry gone? Who was this imposter? She felt pressure building behind her eyes and a stinging in her tear ducts. None of this nonsense now, there would be time for tears later. She was never one to let on to her true feelings so easily. Besides she knew that Harry hated it when people cried.

"I want you to have a seat," it was probably the most sincere thing he'd said all night. Ginny didn't try to argue, if he had something to say, perhaps she would allow him to say it rather than rush into her explanation. She sat down, not in the chair to which he motioned, but to the bed. Sitting in a chair would have felt like an interrogation, at least on the bed there were a few commodities like comfort.

And suddenly, it was as though the man wasn't even there, the boy was left looking as nervous as ever. He ran a hand through his hair making it stick up in the way that she loved. She had to clasp her hands together in her lap to keep them from reaching out to smooth his hair back down.

"Merlin—you have no idea how much I've missed you," it was a whisper and she barely heard it. There was something very comforting in the whisper. She shied away from it.

"You have a funny way of showing it," she bit back. The moment it was out of her mouth she wanted to take it back. He didn't deserve this, no matter how much she was hurting she wanted him to be happy. His safety and happiness were all that had ever mattered to her. He hadn't replied to her comment, it was then that Ginny decided to give up her bitterness. If this Kailen girl was what he wanted, then she wasn't going to stand in the way. Who knew, maybe in time she could learn to be happy for them, but this thought made bile rise in Ginny's throat.

"I want to apologize," Harry started. Ginny's head snapped up in response. To say that she was surprised would be an understatement. She was drawn in by his green gaze. How is it that after these years those eyes still held that powerful effect? He was moving toward her, now he was on his knees in front of her, then his arms were around her waist and his face was pressed into her stomach.

Suddenly there were so many emotions that flooded Ginny. She used to dream of this—back when Emmie was still growing inside of her.

_  
It would have been a stormy night. Ginny would be forced under a blanket by her mother. She would be wiggling her toes, the only visible part of her body, and falling into a hazy sleep by the fire—the clock would be a constant. She would be looking at the clock, only this time (unlike so many others before) something would be different. Harry, Ron and Hermione's hands would move from Mortal Peril to Traveling to Home. Ginny would yell for her mother just as she hears the tell-tale sound of apparition in the kitchen. Three separate pops. They were home. Ginny would attempt to hoist herself from the sofa as Molly came barreling down the stairs. Molly would barrage Ginny with questions of her shouting, but Ginny wouldn't be listening because Harry would be entering the room. Molly would see and faint, Ron and Hermione would rush to help Molly of course, but not Harry—no. Harry and Ginny would lock eyes and the blanket around Ginny would fall away leaving her growing middle exposed. Time would stop and recognition would come to Harry's eyes and the most intense look would invade his features as he moved forward to grasp Ginny, pull her close and kiss her._

Ginny shook her head to clear it of the fuzzy recurring dream. She tried her hardest to focus on what Harry was saying, the residual magic from her hormonal pregnancy still sparked every once in a while but it annoyed her to know that the dreams intensified in the presence of Harry. She hadn't had to deal with those embarrassingly sappy dreams in a long while.

Something Harry was saying caught her attention. She hoped in vain that he hadn't noticed her distant look, she really did need this conversation to go as smoothly and painlessly as possible.

"…and she's so beautiful Ginny," something inside Ginny ached at the thought that they had to be discussing Kailen now, but he continued, "she looks so much like you." _Well that is an odd sort of compliment, _Ginny thought before her full senses caught up to her. Fear grabbed her heart now and refused to let go, they had finally come to the subject at last and she hadn't had to say anything, _he_ was taking it there.

"Wait, you mean Emmie?" Ginny ventured frantically trying to hold on to some strand of thought, just one plan of action for how to continue, how to go on, how to tell him…anything.

"She looks just like you," he repeated. Ginny knew he wasn't going to press the issue any farther; he had that same rigid resolve that Ginny had seen earlier, she wished it would go away. She wished in vain that he would stop being daft and understand that Emmie, truly a beautiful creation, was theirs.

"I think she looks remarkably like her father," Ginny admitted finally, blushing. It was the truth, every time Ginny looked at Emmie, she saw Harry. Harry made an odd sound, almost something like a wounded animal, in his throat.

"I don't want to talk about him," though Ginny knew he was referring to Nicholas she couldn't help but think that he probably didn't want to talk about himself either. Ginny wanted to interrupt him but he continued with a raised hand indicating that she should hear him out, "—I don't blame you. I can't blame you, but please…I don't think that I can hear about how much you love him. Having to see you, with him, after all this time…I mean, a part of me dies a little. It already _kills_ me inside that he was the one—that he helped produce that little girl. She's stunning Gin—"

"She's yours!"

That, at least, helped to shut him up a little. Ginny didn't think she could stand any more of his ramblings, each one stung worse than the one before it. She hadn't thought that she was the one causing pain. She had sure felt enough pain, more than she knew what to do with, in the past twenty-four hours. Now though, now that he wasn't saying anything she wished for an explosion, a snap, _something_ to break through the silence that surrounded them now. She was suffocating.

"What do you mean?"

Literally, that was his question. Ginny almost laughed at the hilarity of it all. She didn't think she needed to be any clearer than she was being already.

"What do you mean, what to I mean?" Ginny's voice was borderline hysterical and she took the time to notice that her right arm was going numb because her left hand was grasping it so tightly.

"She's yours," Ginny took a deep breath to get her frazzled emotions under control and said, "ours, she's ours, and like you said…she's stunning."

"But…Gin…we only," he seemed to struggle and fumble over his words. He was turning an odd shade of pink and Ginny realized that she had never before seen Harry Potter blush. He continued, "We only did it once." Ginny couldn't believe that the universe was so unkind to grant her this response.

"Come now Harry, what we had was too good for this clichéd conversation."

Ginny felt like a boggart in a room full of fearless individuals, there was nothing here to feed off of. He wasn't allowing any room for emotion, no surprise there. Finally when she was about ready to give up he looked at her. _Bollocks, _she thought. Ginny knew that look all too well, it was the same look he leveled her with that dreaded day by the lake the look she had dubbed, Being Noble is Torture.

"I should never have left you, this is—everything," He motioned with frantic arms, "all of it—my fault." She could tell that his resolve was being reinforced the longer he spoke and she hated him for it. The situation wasn't that simple; he couldn't take blame and let it be.

"Oh, now you have a complex about leaving me—"

"I never would have left if I knew. How could I have known?—"

"I wouldn't have wanted you to stay," Ginny snapped. Harry flinched away from her as though her words had stung him. She amended, "I mean, I wouldn't have asked you to. You had a task to do. I'm not selfish, at least I wasn't before or…damn this is difficult." Many emotions that Ginny had tried to repress from the morning after Harry had left were currently making her increasingly uncomfortable.

"I should have known better. I pressured you into m-m-making love with me and, I should have been stronger."

"I'm not sorry about what we did!"

"But Ginny, I shouldn't have left. I—"

"Shut up, Harry!" Ginny scoffed and moved to face the closed door. She needed to create space between herself and the current conversation.

"Harry, you made your choice four years ago. I didn't questions it then, I don't question it now." He didn't respond so she continued, "Can you honestly say that without the knowledge of Emmie…well…coming, that you would have actually considered staying and being with me? You didn't want me with you." Ginny turned around to face him and he seemed to be struggling between saying something and keeping his mouth shut.

Seeing him there, standing with his arms hanging limply at his side, Ginny became painfully aware that she didn't know him anymore. The boy that she had devoted most of her childhood understanding she had missed his transition into manhood. She had missed it; they had missed so much apart. The thought was crushing—suffocating.

What was she doing here? So much about England and her family had changed; she didn't worry about fitting back in and finding a comfortable groove. She knew that she could make a way for her and her daughter, but would it ever feel like it used to? Ginny remembered when being with her family used to be easy, hectic, but enjoyable. She didn't want her family to feel as though they had to squeeze her back into their lives, though she knew they would feel obligated.

Who was she here for anyway, she could find time to communicate and be with her family, she had always thought that coming home would mean being with Harry again. Harry was with Kailen, that much was painfully clear. He now knew that Emmie was his child so he had a royal weight placed upon his shoulders, but other than that…They didn't really know each other anymore. He was no longer hers. There was nothing for her here.

All of these thoughts were spiraling through her head making her dizzy.

"Stay," the command broke through the haze and Ginny forced her mind to still itself.

"What?" she asked. Why did she feel so light headed?

"I know that look, the one that you have on your face, it's the look that you get right before you do something extremely foolish."

"Well I—" Ginny began to bite back indignantly.

"No, it is. I know you. You were making a list, reasons why you should go, but please…if you don't listen to anything else I have to say listen to this. Stay."

"Okay," was all Ginny could find the strength to respond with. She was so tired, why was she so tired?

"You've been through a lot today, why don't you have a lie down on the bed and I'll get Hermione to come check on you. I'm rubbish with the Healer stuff, but she aced those courses, naturally."

Ginny was confused but instead of questioning she opted to complain instead, "I'm fine."

She wasn't fine, was the room tilting or was she? Harry was moving towards her in what seemed to be slow motion. She could see his mouth moving, but she couldn't hear what he was saying. It was then that she noticed that her hands were numb and her face felt like it was on fire. The last thing she saw was Harry's concerned face as he shouted words she couldn't decipher before everything went black.

* * *

**A/N: Wow, I am so sorry to all the people who loved this story. I completely lost sight of where it was going and I never had time to write it so, of course I completely forgot about it. I am so very sorry :'( Forgive me! More to come later.**


	6. In The Beginning There Was Fire

**What He Has Left**

**Chapter 5**: In The Beginning There Was Fire

_There is a moment for every suffering person where they think they cannot handle any more pain. This is the breaking point, the **sahajra** as it is known in __India__. This is the moment when the mind gives up and the body fatigues. **Sahajra** roughly translates to abandon, or abandonment; when the mind forsakes the body and therefore, forsakes itself. This is the moment when the person has been broken beyond repair and is the madness that is witnessed in many Cruciatus victims. However, there are very rare cases when the mind pushes forward and endures the anguish to the bitter end, hoping for an end in sight, this is the **kilota**, or triumph, and the end result is **fuoco**._

_~**The Substance of the Willful** by Perry__ Twittywither_

XxXxXxXxXxXx

Ginny felt as though her whole body was in flames. It was as though she could feel the blood boiling as it raced through her veins. The only sound was that of her heart, constantly thrumming, seemingly shaking her body to pieces. There was only one consistent thought that she was able to bring into coherency—_I'm dying!_

XxXxXxXxXxXx

"Is she going to be okay, Hermione?" That was the concerned voice of Mr. Weasley who was holding a sobbing Molly in the corner.

"There is no way to tell—at least not yet. I have only read about this sort of thing. The information on _fuoco da dentro_ is…sparse to say the very least. Even less than that, I don't know of any record of _Fuoco Wielders_." Hermione looked around the room at the people who had gathered there. Harry could see that she was searching for any soul who had a clue what she was talking about. The harried expression on her face was somewhat frightening.

"_Fuoco_…..zat is fire in Italian, no?" Nicholas had refused to leave Ginny's side when Harry had carried her downstairs after she had collapsed. Harry found that his own concern for Ginny in this instance won over his jealously of the Frenchman. It also helped that he had just found out that Emmie was actually his daughter. He was a father! He had delighted in the thought for a few unadulterated moments before Ginny was swaying on her feet. It had been so sudden, Harry wished he could have done more, but he had not known what was going on and to be honest he still wasn't sure he understood all that Hermione was trying to tell them.

"Yes, Nicholas," Hermione practically screeched. Harry thought she might be on the verge of hysteria and he knew how he felt about that, he hated it. If Hermione was this freaked out about Ginny's current state then it couldn't be good. Everyone waited for Hermione to get her bearings and continue. "_Fuoco da dentro_ is the 'fire from within' it is not something that has had extensive research because most 'professionals'," Hermione said this last word as though it were a joke, "think it is a silly wives tale that has been passed around for centuries. Truth be told this condition, as it were, dates back much farther than centuries. It does not go as far as the basis of humanity, but rather to the basis of Wizardry."

"In the time when the Earth was new and things were most primal it was an unfortunate thing indeed if one were to find his or herself ill. The major cause of death at the time was a rather nasty version of the fever. Because medicine was unheard of, many people in their feverish states simply succumbed to the madness that was churning their bodies. The symptoms associated with such a sickness were massive amounts of pain--pain that would rival that associated with dysentery! The feeling of your blood boiling till capillaries burst, the way it inflames your tissues and squeezes your organs--"

A horrid sound was emitted from the corner of the room where Arthur and Molly Weasley stood. Molly looked as though she was about to faint. Harry got the insane urge to take Hermione's wand away because he had a radical idea that she might use it to harm herself for speaking like that in front of Mrs. Weasley. Ron looked sick, as did Mr. Weasley. Percy and the twins looked...interested, as though Hermione weren't speaking about the symptoms that their only sister could very well be suffering from. Harry wasn't sure how to form his feelings into any coherent emotion so he just stood shell-shocked. No one spoke for a while and so, Hermione continued.

"There is a theory that the fire was magic, in its purest and least controlled form. The force of magic is not something we consider to be dangerous because we live with it every day. The properties and potency of it has adapted down our bloodlines and as it dies out in us we find that we see a rise in the Squib population. We also live with a better understanding and control of magic. With our wands we are able to channel the magic within us and concentrate it through a catalyst and that allows our body more leeway when it comes to the wear and tear that the use of magic brings." Hermione let her statements sink in. The room was silent as everyone processed the information that was being presented to them. Harry could only assume that everyone else knew these stories better than he did because he had not lived as an integral part of the Wizarding World until he was eleven. He had never thought about the basic properties of magic and how it worked in the anatomy of each individual. He had always known that the magic had come from within the wizard or witch, but he had never thought about how that might effect the physical structure of a wizard or witch.

"So," Arthur broke in, "What you are saying is that Ginny is experiencing magic in its most concentrated form?"

"Yes, Mr. Weasley that is exactly what I think is happening. Like I mentioned before it happens to very few witches and wizards. The fact that she is still breathing is a positive sign that she might pull through this." Hermione looked hopeful, very hopeful in fact. This eased Harry's nerves immensely; still there was a word that Hermione was using: _might._

"Hermione, in your research, have you found out what happens to a person after that person has…pushed through the pain….as it were?" This last question surprised Harry the most because it had come from Kailen whom Harry had forgotten existed…let alone was in the room…holding his hand! _When did she grab my hand?_ Harry wracked his brain but he could not place the events leading up to Ginny lying prostrate on the sofa in the Weasley's living room. Kailen's hand suddenly felt weighty in his. He had the inconceivable urge to release her hand and go wash his in the basin in the kitchen, but leaving the room was not an option, not when Ginny's fate was still somewhat undecided.

"This is where most of the guesswork and speculation comes into play. Fire Wielding is very ancient and therefore it is difficult to know the exact course that Ginny's symptoms will run. I have….read a few books…" Hermione trailed off as though she were trying to recall an important date that she had missed.

"What did the books say?" Harry prodded. His voice cracked and he realized that he hadn't spoken in an hour and a half.

"When the fire within finally builds it will then burn without. The magic that Ginny will radiate for a while will be immense. There is no way to tell how long this period will last. All we can do is hope that Ginny is holding on to the point where she outlasts the internal radiation. Ginny is experiencing her first stages of pain. If my calculations are correct then her heart will begin to slow in about five hours time."

"Begin to slow? Well, what can we do to stop that?" Ron was looking around as though to find something that might help speed Ginny's heart.

"No, Ron, her heart needs to slow. It has to slow down so that the fire does not consume her. As the heart slows, the heat will radiate at a more controlled pace, the pain will be much worse, but she will be alive. Another thing that we need to start doing once her heart starts to slow is to feed the heat—"

"You want to pump more heat into her," Harry knew he must have sounded furious for Hermione took a small step away from him. She looked at him with understanding eyes and he hated the softness that he saw there. She knew; she knew how much this was hurting him. Suddenly the weight of Kailen's hand in his increased tenfold and he found that he had to remove his hand from her grasp or he might go crazy. It might have been his imagination, but he could have sworn that he felt Kailen tighten her grip as he tried to remove his hand. It must have been a trick of the brain, however, because he removed his hand without too much effort.

"We need to add more heat so that it continues to build rather than becoming stagnant in her. It will have to be body heat and it will have to be a constant transition of people because she will need to feed off of the heat of the magic within others. I will need three people to volunteer," Hermione looked around the room and Harry was unsurprised to see that nearly everyone had moved to say they would help. Hermione called upon Nicholas and Ron to help. Harry was surprised, however, when Hermione turned to look him square in the eye and said, "You will have to be one of the people Harry."

"Me—? I mean, of course, I'll do it. I _want_ to do it, but why me?"

"Your magical core is probably the strongest in the group we have assembled. You are Ginny's greatest hope for survival."

"No pressure mate," Fred said winking at Harry. If Harry weren't so amazed at what was happening he might have had more time to be amazed by the fact that the twins were being so cavalier.

"I'm going to check on Fleur and Emmie," Bill said gruffly as he lumbered up the stairs. It might have been Harry's imagination, but he could have sworn he saw Bill level him with a glare before his departure. Hermione took Bill's leave as an opportunity to announce that she needed to speak to Harry, Ron, and Nicholas alone. Harry was certain that nobody would move to leave, but the room cleared rather quickly. Kailen stayed a few moments by Harry's side before she followed Percy out the front door.

"What must we do?" Nicholas asked in an assured voice. He was still seated on the sofa. Ginny's head was resting in his lap and he was idly stroking her hair. Harry wondered how many times they had sat like that when Ginny had been in France.

"First we must move her upstairs to her own room," Hermione instructed. Ron took out his wand and Hermione knocked it out of his hand.

"Hermione! Wha--?"

"Sorry, Ron, sorry. We cannot perform magic on her. That means no levitating charms. Any more magic in her system at this time will drive her to insanity for sure. I didn't want to mention this while Mrs. Weasley was still in the room, but very few people come out of this alive." Hermione had a harried look about her which set Harry ill-at ease again. She was in thought for a moment before she came back to them and began her instructions. Ron was to go around the house and find any sheets and blankets that he could. Nothing conjured would be able to cover her for fear that it might be too much on Ginny's system. Nicholas followed Hermione up the stairs carrying Ginny in his arms and Harry followed at the rear feeling completely useless.

Once Ginny was securely on the bed and covered in the blankets that Ron had scrounged up, which hadn't been many, the three men sat and waited while Hermione rummaged through her books that she had sent Angelina and Katie in search of the moment she had looked over Ginny. The sound of the pages as Hermione furiously flipped through them was oddly comforting to Harry's nerves. It brought back memories of his first year at Hogwarts. If anyone could figure out how to save Ginny, it would be Hermione.

"Any luck?" Ron asked, passing by Ginny's closet for the twelfth time as he paced the room. Harry was amazed that Ron had shown so much restraint. He was usually more impatient than this. Hermione, who would normally respond huffily to an inquiry whilst she was researching, looked up and gave the slightest nod in the affirmative. Harry released a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding and was oddly relieved to find the pain in his chest was suddenly relieved.

"I still only have pieces as far as instructions go, but these books seem to indicate that my ideas will work," Hermione beamed triumphantly at them. Harry was convinced and he saw Ron perk up quite a bit. It was a voice from the corner that begged the question, "You are sure?" Nicholas' question surprised Harry, mainly because no one had questioned Hermione before. Instead of the outrage that Harry thought he was going to feel, it was replaced with an overwhelming sense of curiosity. What was Hermione's response going to be?

"As sure as I'm going to be," Hermione stated bluntly. Harry understood immediately that she wasn't frustrated with Nicholas' doubt; she was instead frustrated with her lack of certainty. Ron stepped forward and placed a comforting arm on her shoulder. The gesture caused Hermione to lean into his body. Harry felt uncomfortable at the intimacy of the embrace.

"Well, we'd better get started," Ron stated.

"Okay, who wants to be on the first watch?" Hermione asked all business once again. Nicholas raised his hand for which Harry was surprisingly grateful. Harry didn't want to be the one to go first; what if he did something wrong? What if he hurt Ginny? He would never be able to live with himself.

"Alright Nicholas, remove your robes," Hermione instructed. Harry noticed that Ron held the same expression that was currently plastered on his own face. Disgust.

"Wait, we have to be naked?" Ron now looked as though he might be sick.

"No, of course not. Just in your knickers," Hermione said as though this was of no consequence which it looked as though, for Nicholas at least, it was not as he was already standing naked except for his boxers. He slid under the covers and held Ginny as though this was the way they normally spent their time together. Harry felt his jealousy kick into overdrive. Hermione had moved to hover over where Nicholas had positioned himself.

"Be sure your arms are wrapped tightly around her, she needs to have your core pressed against her," Hermione instructed. The thought of Nicholas' "core" pressed against Ginny made Harry nauseous. The whole situation made Harry nauseous. Ginny looked as though she was fading by the minute and all he could do was stand by and wait for his turn to be near her. Her hair seemed to be turning a more vibrant shade of red as the hours went by and all Harry could think was that Hermione must be right. Ginny was becoming fire.

* * *

**A/N: July was hectic. I apologize again for the late update, but at least an update came....right? Props for me? *cricket noises* Alright, alright. I will try to do better but these characters are being mean and not giving me much to work with at the current moment. :-P I make no promises as to when the next update will be, but let us say hopefully within the next two or three weeks. Thank you so much to everyone who is sticking by this story. I have some ideas that I hope will work wonderfully.**

**Sincerely,**

**Me ^_^  
**


	7. A Force To Bind Them

**Author's Note: Dear readers (if any of you even remember this story) I am SO SORRY. I know that it has been years since my last post and for that I must express my deepest apologies. I haven't visited in a long while so imagine my surprise when I found that my profile and stories were still up here—and what's more!? My stories are still getting a little bit of viewing traffic. I thought I would try and rekindle this tale if you will allow me to do so. I understand if you don't feel like reading it or—if after reading it decide that it isn't as good as you once thought it was. I will try to keep posting though. I am working on Chapter 7. Again, please forgive me. Sincerely, Meg. **

**What He Has Left**

**Chapter 6**: A Force to Bind Them

Harry knocked on the door hesitantly. He had traveled across the hall to the room where his daughter was. He could not say for sure why he was at this current location, but he knew that he could no longer stay in a room that had a Frenchman holding his ex-girlfriend closely. There was only so much torture that Harry could endure. Realizing that his first knock might not have been heard, Harry raised his hand to the door and knocked a little louder.

Bill opened the door and leveled Harry with a weighty look.

"Who eez eet?" Fleur's voice came cheerily from inside the room. Harry fought the insane urge to chuckle; of course the person least affected by the recent events would be Fleur Weasley. Harry half expected Bill to say "nobody" and shut the door in his face, but he let out an angry puff of air and said, "Harry."

"Oh! 'Arry? Let him in," Fleur was there at the door, smiling. She pushed Bill out of the way and embraced Harry warmly. "Can you believe zis situation 'Arry? 'Orrible, simply 'orrible."

"Er…yes," Harry didn't think he could discuss the situation with Fleur seriously, nor did he want to try so he went for a different approach. "Erm, I was wondering, if I could maybe have a few moments with my…. daughter." Saying the term aloud was quite different than thinking it. _His_ daughter. Bill looked as though he was going to stay in protest, but Fleur was already leading him by the hand out the door.

"We will be downstairs if you need anysing! Call us if you need us. Au revoir, Emmie!"

"Au revoir, Tante," piped a voice from the bed. And then they were alone. Harry didn't know what to do. His thoughts turned to a jumbled mess and he cursed himself silently for not having an actual plan or course of action. _Some great Auror you'll make_, he thought sardonically.

"Bonjour, Papa," Emmie was bent over a piece of paper. She was idly touching the surface leaving bits of color in the wake of her fingers. Harry looked for the paint that she was utilizing only to realize there were no paints to be found. Harry watched as Emmie took her index finger and slowly constructed a horizon and he realized that she was painting a landscape. Where a child's fingers are normally short and stubby, Emmie's fingers were somewhat long and delicate. Harry wondered if perhaps those were the way Ginny's hands were when she was younger.

Emmie had already constructed a picture of a wooded area and in the middle she was constructing a house. The house looked as though it was made out of wood and while the artwork was a bit advanced for her age you could still tell it was the painting of a child. The windows were too big and the door was much too small, but it was charming nonetheless. She traced the chimney with two finger strokes and with the same fingers she constructed the smoke coming out of it. She raised the picture to her mouth and blew on it causing the smoke to come out of the chimney in little gray puffs. Emmie giggled at the painting and shyly held it out.

"For me?" Harry asked, astonished that he was already receiving gifts. The trust of a child was something that amazed him. Harry's earliest memory with the Dursley's was from when he was about four-years-old; he and Dudley had been playing with a Jack-In-The-Box toy. Petunia had removed her son from the toy, knowing that at the last minute that puppet that would burst forth to scare him, but she left Harry to his own devices. When the puppet popped forth Harry had been so frightened that he was shaking from the force of his sobs but Petunia simply sat and sneered at him; moving away from him as he went to her for a hug. Harry would never know the embrace of a motherly figure until he met Mrs. Weasley many years later.

He looked at the painting in his hand, this present that he had received from this child, _his_ child. In looking at the painting a need rose up in Harry like something he had never felt before; a need so persistent it felt like hunger pains in his stomach. This need was the need to be a good father to Emmie. Somehow Harry knew that he could accomplish this task, even excel if he put his mind to it.

"I am so thankful for my gift, but I wonder if you might hold on to it for me? At least for a little while. I want to find a very special way to display it," Harry explained.

Harry watched Emmie as she hopped across the room to put her parchment away; her soft copper curls reflecting different shades of red as the evening sun set outside the window.

Harry thought that he might be sad that Emmie didn't seem to resemble him at all. Every inch of her seemed to be Ginny, through and through. When looking at his daughter as she came to sit by him he realized that the fact that she looked like Ginny made him love her all the more. From her red hair that was tame, to the freckles sprinkling her cheeks, to her green eyes. _Green eyes!?_ Harry did a double take as Emmie scurried back to the opposite side of the bed.

"Emmie!"

"Oui, Papa?"

"Weren't your eyes brown," Harry inquired. "Like your mother's?"

"When I was born they were green, but mummy charmed them because sometimes when she would look at me she would cry," Emmie said as she traced the pattern of the fairies dancing on her bed sheets. "What color are they now?"

Harry stared at the small child for a long moment. She seemed so very precocious. _She certainly doesn't get __**that**__ from me._ Harry couldn't wrap his mind around this—any of this. Emmie waited patiently for his answer.

"Green," Harry finally stated. He was surprised by the reverence that he heard in his voice, but Emmie smiled a big smile and placed her small hand upon his.

"Just like yours."

Harry's moment of elation was short lived as he began to realize something that his mind was trying to reveal to him. He stood slowly from the bed, his heartbeat was starting to accelerate and it was rather painful the way it felt as though it would soon burst from his chest.

"Are you okay, Daddy?" Emmie was pulling on the sleeve of his shirt. She looked up at him; the vibrant color of her hair, so much like her mother's—her mother's—

"_Ginny!_" Harry didn't realize that he had shouted her name until Bill came running into the room. If Emmie's eyes were returning to their natural color then that meant that the magic was wearing off. But, if the magic was wearing off then that meant—

"Harry, what is it?"

"Can you watch Emmie for a little while?" Without waiting for a response Harry bolted to the room right across the way. Hermione and Ron were sitting near the closet. Both were asleep. Harry's attention went to the bed where Ginny and Nicholas were and he choked at what he saw.

"HERMIONE!" Harry shook his friend, maybe a little too roughly, but Hermione looked around dazedly for a moment before she snapped too.

"Harry, wha—?" But she had just seen what had made Harry so frightened. Ginny was on the bed looking more frail than ever her arms wrapped tightly around Nicholas—Nicholas who was shaking uncontrollably as though he were having a seizure; Nicholas who was turning an unsightly shade of green.

"Bloody hell!" Ron said as he rushed to the bed. He looked to his girlfriend, "What do we do Hermione? What is happening?"

"She's killing him," Hermione said in a far off voice.

"She's also dying," Harry said. Hermione cast him a sharp look; turning her attention to Ginny she let out the tiniest gasp when she realized that Harry was right.

"Hermione, what do we do?" Ron asked again. He placed a hand gently on her shoulder, but the interaction didn't seem to register in her mind. Hermione's face was crumpling into despair and rapidly. Her eyes were tearing up and her hands went to her head, almost as if she thought pulling her hair out would be the only solution to this desperate problem.

"Hermione, focus!" Harry could not accept her defeat. She was better than this. Hermione could figure this out. She was the only person capable and he couldn't have her falling apart now. Not when the mother of his child was dying in front of his eyes. Ron walked over to Hermione and placed his hands on either side of her face. He looked tenderly into her eyes and in a strange moment of deep calm called out to her, "Hermione, we need you to focus here. All is not lost, love. The answer is in that brilliant brain of yours, but we have two people to save here and we need to do something quickly." Hermione's eyes were fixed on Ron's eyes and she nodded. Ron's words had seemingly done the trick. Hermione removed her hands from her hair and began her instruction.

"Harry, strip down to your knickers. Ron, I will need you to help me move Nicholas. The moment we remove him, Harry, you will need to immediately take his place. I didn't expect Ginny to utilize so much of his core so quickly," Hermione began to position herself in such a way to help remove Nicholas' body from Ginny's. "We'll make the switch on my mark."

Harry was already down to his knickers and was prepared fully for the task at hand; at least he thought he was until Hermione said "mark". As Ron and Hermione struggled to hoist a thrashing Nicholas from his previous position, Harry moved in to take his place and he immediately felt the heat. His instinct was to shy away from it, but Ginny was already extremely pale and he knew she was running out of time. He gritted his teeth and pulled her chest to his chest. He melded his body to hers. The moment he wrapped his arms around her the heat ceased to be a nuisance and instead he felt a slight, but persistent, vibration. It was as though Ginny's body was humming. The sensation was strange, not pleasant and yet not nearly as unpleasant as the burning heat he had been experiencing moments before.

Harry attempted to look over his shoulder where he vaguely registered a slight commotion was still occurring.

"Is he going to be alright?" Harry asked.

"Yes, he'll be okay." Hermione said. Harry could tell from her labored breathing that she was still working some furious magic to revive Nicholas. Hermione continued, "I sent Ron to grab some water. That was a close call. I cannot believe I was so stupid!"

"What do you mean?" Harry asked distracted by a piece of Ginny's hair that somehow managed to find its way in his mouth. He tried to spit the offending tress out without slobbering all over Ginny's face. He couldn't help wondering how this situation might be vastly different if Ginny were conscious; she in the bed, clad only in her knickers, and he; the same way. Harry looked at Ginny's face and noticed that it was returning to a normal color. He faintly registered Hermione's response from where she was working on Nicholas.

"…just so tired and I knew I shouldn't have fallen asleep, but it has been a long day for everyone!"

Harry wanted to agree with her admonitions on recklessness, but as he stared into Ginny's unconscious face he could only think about time; time and regret. The weight of regret began to wash over him, dragging him to despair, an emotion he had become familiar with over the years. He had spent so much time trying to forget the things that had happened; the time he had wasted. Time, however, would not allow him the luxury of forgetfulness and so, instead of trying to forget, Harry chose to remember.

Time that he spent not noticing Ginny at school. Sure, the small girl with the hero worship had been embarrassing for a little while, but they had been through so much after her first year that that behavior had all but ceased. Time that he spent chasing Cho Chang and not noticing the amazing red haired wonder that was sprouting up within Gryffindor house. Time that he spent not noticing all that she was or even daring to dream about all that she could be.

She, who had been the only person to call him out when he was acting like a complete wanker his fifth year. She, who was every bit as clever as her twin brothers. She, who never backed down from a frightening situation. She had been everything and he had been blinded by his own "destiny" to wonder what might happen if one day she was no longer around. He should have noticed her sooner. He should have grabbed her earlier on and held on to her and never let her go. Their first kiss had literally felt like a source that jump-started his life. Every smile they shared should have been longer. Every embrace should have been warmer. Every kiss should never have had an end. The night that they had created Emmie, he never should have left, and when she spoke those words—the words that gave him so much hope, he should have told her the thing that he had been too much of a coward to say at the time.

He had been such a coward, in fact, that he had left her that night. The memory jabbed at his heart and he tried to keep the images at bay, but this was a time for remembering and so…Harry gave in to the scene that had plagued his dreams for the past four years.

_Harry lay, staring at the ceiling. He was vaguely aware that there was a silly grin plastered on his face as he watched the ugly cherubs on the ceiling of the room dance among the moving clouds. **Such a strange decorum**, Harry thought. Soft whistling noises were being emitted from Ginny's nose as she slept next to him. He looked over at her and brushed his lips lightly against hers. **She loves me,** Harry thought in delight. Thinking it wasn't enough, he needed to speak it—needed to say it in order to make it real once more and so he whispers, to no one in particular, "She loves me!"_

_It was amazing to him how so few words could mean the whole world. He basked a little longer in the joy that he was feeling before the true weight of the evening's events began to settle as a hefty weight in the pit of his stomach. He could not reciprocate her sentiment. Not because he didn't feel the same way that she did, but because if he admitted it to anyone then Ginny would surely be used against him. He didn't want that for her. Just thinking about Voldemort getting his hands on Ginny caused bile to rise in Harry's throat. _

_Harry sat up in the bed slowly. He carefully shifted his body, so as not to wake Ginny. He placed his feet on the cold tile floor; placing his hands on his knees he began to take long breaths. After about a minute his nerves were feeling a bit better and his resolve was set. Ginny could have nothing to do with the war; however, in order to ensure that they could be together he would have to begin his final journey tonight. He knew she would be miffed—more than miffed, she would be furious, but she would have to understand why she couldn't come along. But, how to tell her…_

_Harry looked behind him. Ginny's face was relaxed and looked strangely pale in the moonlight coming in from the window. "Gin," Harry whispered, "hey, Ginny." She didn't stir. Harry was surprised to find that he felt elated; he didn't want to have another row with Ginny. Perhaps the fact that she didn't wake was for the best. She could remember their last few moments as good ones. At least—Harry hoped what had transpired had been good for her! Harry shook his head. Now was not the time to be thinking about that. He couldn't just leave her though._

"_I need parchment." Harry said, again, to no one in particular. Not to mention neither he nor Ginny needed to be caught in such a compromising position. Harry grabbed his clothes from where they lay discarded on the floor. He found his knickers underneath Ginny's peach bridesmaids dress. When he was certain he wasn't missing any article of clothing he'd entered the room in he turned around to look at Ginny one last time. His breath hitched in his chest. Who could say when the next time would be that he would look on her beautiful face once more? He admired the way that the bed sheets bunched up around her waist. He let his eyes scope the curve of her figure. Never before had he wanted to be back in bed so badly, but he knew what needed to be done. _

_Harry pulled the covers up over Ginny's shoulders and kissed her forehead lightly; he made his way quietly out of the room. As he shut the door behind him he heard a surprised squeal and whirled around to see a blushing Hermione and a thoroughly tipsy Ron. The position was…compromising, to say in the least. Ron had Hermione pinned against a door further down the hall, one hand placed above the brunette's bushy-haired head and the other stopped in an interrupted endeavor up the skirt of her dress._

"_Harry!" Hermione shrieked, trying the brush Ron's wayward hand from underneath her skirt. Ron looked twice as ashamed as he was smashed._

"_Erm…hey mate," Ron stuttered. He tried to stand straight while Hermione attempted to smooth down her dress, but it appeared that the door might have been the only thing holding him up because he began to stumble backwards. "Ron!" Hermione moved forward to grab him while Harry rushed to help her._

"_You see mate," Ron began again, "it was, we were. I mean so…we had been looking for you. 'Cause…yeah, and…here you are. Ta da!" Harry felt his heart beat returning to normal. At first he was worried because he thought that he would be questioned for coming out of Ginny's room, but his two friends were apparently too drunk and too embarrassed, respectively, to have noticed much of anything outside of their mutual shame._

"_You see, Harry," Hermione said, trying to make sense of Ron's words, "You've been missing for close to four hours and nearly everyone is already in bed. You and Ginny left in such a huff that we thought we should come find you when so much time had passed."_

"_We thought she'd done you in, didn't we, Hermione?" Ron asked, giving Harry a sloppy wink that turned into more of a delayed blink. _

"_Yes, well…" Hermione trailed off._

"_Erm, yeah, well…Ginny and I had a bit of a row and she threw some stuff at me before yelling at me to leave so she could get to sleep. I've sort of been wandering around trying to clear my head." Harry hoped his lie would be accepted. Ron, at least, was nodding like he had expected as much, but Hermione eyed Harry with unveiled suspicion. **I guess only one of them went overboard with the firewhisky**, Harry admonished. He tried a new tactic, pleading with Hermione, using only his eyes, to accept his explanation and let it slide. At that moment she buckled slightly underneath the weight of Ron and seemed to have forgotten all of her suspicions._

"_Ooft," Hermione huffed, shifting Ron's weight to help hold him up better. "Let's get him in his room. I'm knackered myself and would like some sleep before the sun rises."_

"_No, Hermione, we are leaving tonight." Harry said. He also began to shift Ron's weight to better hold his drunken friend up. Who knew so much weight resided in one so thin?_

"_Tonight? But you said we were going to spend the rest of the week here," Hermione reminded him._

"_Yeah, you promised," Ron whined; his head lolling from side to side._

_Harry felt a tinge of guilt. He had promised his friends a short reprieve before the real work began, but he knew that he would have to go back on his promise. There was no time to stay still. Voldemort needed to be defeated as soon as possible._

"_Listen, I know—oof Hermione, we need to get Ron seated, he's killing my shoulder." _

_Hermione nodded as she and Harry attempted to gently lower their friend to the floor. Ron fell to the floor and promptly began guffawing at the hilarity of it all. At any other time, Harry might have found the behavior amusing, but at the current moment he couldn't find fun in much anything. Harry said, "I know what I promised, but…the more I've been thinking about it, the more I have decided that we have to start immediately. If you and Ron want to stay behind then I understand, but I'm leaving in one hour."_

_Hermione stared at him intently for a few moments then looked down at Ron. She sighed heavily before whispering to Harry, "You know we won't let you go alone. Ron is in no state to round up his things so you'll have to help him. He'll also be fine with leaving now because he doesn't know what that means, but trust me—Harry, look at me! When he sobers up, he's going to be very angry with both you and I for taking him from his family before he can say goodbye."_

"_Do you think we should leave him?" Harry whispered back. They both looked at Ron who had passed out on the floor. Harry watched Hermione's eyes soften and he felt ashamed for viewing such a moment between his friends. He also began to have serious doubts about allowing them to come on this endeavor with him. They were both safer staying behind, but he knew no amount of argument would keep them from joining him. Truth be told, he couldn't imagine embarking on this journey alone. He could very well be marching to his death. Harry stopped his thoughts; it would be no good to keep thinking that way._

"_No—no I think he would be more upset if we left him behind. Just round up his things and I will gather mine. We'll meet downstairs in an hour." Hermione turned and started towards the room that Ginny was staying in._

"_Hermione!" Harry called after her._

"_What?"_

"_That's where Ginny is staying."_

"_I know. She wanted me to stay with her. All of my things are in there."_

_The gravity of the situation hit Harry hard. It's a good thing he had left the room when he had. What would he have said if Hermione, or worse, Ron, had found he and Ginny together? He realized Hermione was still staring at him._

"_Oh, right," He said, "one hour."_

_An hour later found the three standing in the parlor that they had arrived in. Ron was sobering up slightly. It was enough, at least, that his friends didn't have to support his body. Hermione was looking through her things for the fifth time to be sure she was completely prepared for the journey. Harry knew there was just one last thing that he had to do; the parchment felt heavy in his hand._

"_I, er…I think I forgot something. You guys stay here. I'll be back in a moment." The other two nodded and Harry sprinted up the staircase. When he reached the room Ginny was sleeping in he took great care to be extremely quiet. He walked over to the bed and placed the parchment on the pillow, next to Ginny's head. Harry's throat felt dry as he gazed down at her sleeping figure. He knew the note wasn't much, but he hoped that it would be enough. He kissed her forehead one last time and made a quick return to the parlor where his friends were waiting._

"_Okay, we can go now."_

_Even though he had told himself it was the noble thing to do. Even though he told himself that he was being brave, he had never felt like more of a coward then when the three of them disapparated out of the Chateau de Delaclour; leaving a sleeping Ginny, alone in bed, with only a note to greet her in the morning. _

As Harry lay there watching Ginny, _his_ Ginny, he didn't feel any braver than the night he left her four years ago. Perhaps it was the coward's way out, what with her being unconscious and all, but Harry couldn't put it off any longer. He placed his lips close to her ear and he whispered the words he should have spoken long ago, "Don't give up, Ginny. I love you."


End file.
